The Sunflower Journal
by kalisarea
Summary: Sequel to Our Blessing the story of a broken man and the journal that may very well change the path he currently walks. COMPLETE
1. 1 The Silent Man

**The Sunflower Journal**

**Summary:**Six months after the time that 'Our Blessing' ends; this is the story of a broken man and the journal that could change the path he walks now...

**Pairings:** Chloe and Lex; Clark and Lois; Kenshin and Kaoru; Shishio and Yumi

**Rating:** PG (for now) - R (for later)

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Smallville or Rurouni Kenshin... I just twisted the plot and characters for my personal entertainment... haha :)

**Author's Note:** Just a word of caution, this, unlike the prequel to this story, is filled with a lot of symbols... if you're not into that kind of thing, then read with caution... A lot of angst and stuff, but it answers a lot of questions that were left hanging at the end of the prior story, Our Blessings... If you haven't read that story yet, I suggest that you go on back and read it because you might get confused with all the characters...

Anyway, enough of that... on with the story!

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* * *

_The best intentions are often fraught with disappointment. – Grissom (CSI)_

**_1 The Silent Man_**

Lex sat in the backseat of the limousine as it pulled away from the mansion

(_of shattered dreams_)

his eyes trained straight ahead and out the windshield. It was night and starless; a light rain was showering down distorting the road ahead. He was dressed formally for a ball – wearing a clean cut tuxedo over his hard body – that was being held in the grand Met Hotel. He had consented to help with the country's deteriorating security by creating a weapon of great power that was to be operated by the country's armed forces. This had been the first project he had funded since his one month vacation, relieving and preventing the public to further speculate on his sudden leave.

That night, Lex had originally come from his penthouse, but he had told his driver he wanted to stop by the mansion. His employee did as he was told with no outward reaction to the request. They spent approximately ten minutes in the estate, with the bald Luthor standing at the main entrance staring at the handle. It was there that the rain began to sprinkle down. By the time he got back to the limousine, his face and the shoulders of the black trench coat he had put over his tuxedo was wet. They left afterwards, his face stoic and void of emotion. He had patted the water from his head, the sparkling drops gone from his pale skin; little tributes to his loss, soaked up by manufactured soft tissue. This man desired no sympathy from anything – this man with a stone heart and great wit.

The ride to the hotel was quiet, with just the pattering of rain and the engine of the vehicle whirring through the air. They soon slowed and the flashing lights began to get brighter. Something skittered across his heart – once; twice; three times – a spider, spinning a little web; slowly, very slowly. Swallowing calmly, Lex turned his head to the door as it clicked open and the flashing lights suddenly invaded his wake. In a business-like manner, he stepped out and looked around with his trademark smirk plastered on his face. The reporters screamed out questions and the photographers and cameramen took shots of him from where they stood; shots of

(_what you look like when you lose something special that the world didn't know you had_)

the ever so famous Alexander Luthor, tycoon businessman and richest man in the country. Lex began to inch his way down the red carpeted way, shaking hands with old business acquaintances and stopping at times to get a shot with these other important military men and women. Once inside he made his way to the area where he would do the grand unveiling. Reporters were already inside, waiting to see what he would present while the more elite mingled, only slightly curious as to what Lex would show. Upon his stepping onstage, the twittering about the room faded to nothing as they focused their full attention to the magnanimous man before them. The bald billionaire before them stood with his arrogant manner.

"For just over half a year," he began in a sure voice, "I have had a team of scientists creating a weapon that the world has never seen before; a weapon so powerful that those opposing us will have no choice but surrender just at the sight of it. Well, this quest for the most potent machine has been a successful one." With his smirk back on his face once again he moved back and took hold of a decorated rope. "Now, without further ado, I present to you the military's saviour!"

Lex pulled the rope and pulled back the curtains revealing his destructive toy. He watched the crowd haughtily as they all gasped at awe and brought their eyes upwards. "This," he went on with great flair, "is Machina 707 or as I like to call it _Thanatos_."

"What is it capable of doing, Mr. Luthor?" someone asked in a squeaky voice.

He in turn chuckled a bit and shook his head before indicating key parts with the smooth gesture of his right hand. "Well, it's got a large gun of its own as you see right there, that can shoot at an average of thirty bullets per second. It also has back up tracking missiles, flame-throwers for both mechanical hands to handle, and a wealthy share of H-Bombs. We moulded its body with a metal that cannot be penetrated once out of its liquid form. In other words, these babies are unstoppable. They are, in all senses, our puppets and harbingers of death."

"Mr. Luthor," a new, confident voice called out, causing his head to snap towards the sound and narrow his eyes almost menacingly. "Wouldn't these prove to be fatal should they fall in the wrong hands?"

Lex didn't say anything for a moment, just stared at this reporter and her partner with a hard unflinching gaze. Then he smiled a bit. "Then the US will have to make sure they don't fall into the 'wrong hands', now isn't that right?"

The interview session was swiftly cut off by the sound of concrete being blasted away and the crumbling of the wall and ceiling just by the stage. Women screamed in horror; men yelled in fear. Everyone scrambled away from the area, still watching as helicopters hovered in their newly-made entrance. Other guests, however, became more preoccupied with other affected areas of the room. The reporter who had just posed her question tripped over a fallen piece of concrete and looked up to find that a cement column was tipping over and would eventually crush her. All she could do was see this heavy object come towards her until she finally closed her teary eyes, expecting death a second away.

But nothing changed. She opened her eyes slowly and found that the cement column was just hovering a foot away from her body. Someone groaned and the cement column moved and was thrown to a far corner that the others had abandoned. Even as the intruders came in and stole the new military weapon and left, the reporter switched her disbelieving eyes from where the column landed with a reverberating thump to the one responsible for saving her. She caught blue, yellow and red

(_ridiculous-looking_)

outfit and most prominent, the large 'S' upon his chest. Then he was flying – out through the gaping hole left by the thieves and disappeared in the sky. And all the people could think was there was an angel on their side.

* * *

(_Alexander Luthor_) 

The silence coupled with the darkness is a beautiful companion. Conversation is done without straining the vocal chords or moving the muscles. All you have to do is just sit there and stare into the seemingly endless black. Some people cannot appreciate this solitude – find that it is unnerving and uncomfortable. I on the other hand find it comforting. I have time to think – or drain out my thoughts from my mind. In darkness's embrace I cannot tell one object from the next and there is a sense of unity.

Tonight, however, I allow a bit of light to line the room with its undesirable presence. After all, I have a _very_ special guest coming and I cannot speak with him without a distinct notion of where he is. He may very well stab my back. And as much as death is a welcome visitor, I have yet to give my share to the world – my gift to those who are living as life have given me such an unforgettable gift in return.

My guest… the man who is plastered on the front page of the Daily Planet – as with the rest of the existing newspapers for his heroic actions yesterday… the man who foiled my plans to hurt more people than had been in the process of _Thanatos_ being stolen… he has covered himself in the triumphant veils of red, yellow and blue, standing tall for 'justice and all that is good.' Hear me snort derisively, you fool. And of course he can – he with his super-human powers and skills.

Almost as if in answer, the glass door to the terrace slides open, allowing a gust of wind to blow in with his coming. The moonlight is dull tonight – the nights have always been dull after she – after he – after they all… well, he is a faint silhouette in the dim light, his cape fluttering with the shifting air.

He reeks of righteousness. I saw him yesterday in the crowd – the stench of what he stood for emanating from him in heavy waves it almost made me sick. At least I got to see his outraged expression when the men I hired came crashing through the wall. Oh, the utter joy of seeing all of them scramble! I felt a bit of heaviness lift from my tired shoulders at that moment of utter chaos as I left these unfortunate souls to their supposed doom. But _he_ put the weight back again – only it seemed heavier when I realized exactly what he had prevented… my contentment in their fear and suffering.

I am faintly aware of my nails digging into the palms of my hand as I watch him approach. I see his eyes – windows to an entirely new universe of peace and contentment – and I silently curse him; he who is responsible for my gift from life. I feel a smirk suddenly spring upon my lips. He made me the way I am now – not my father, not my mother… not that insipid brother of mine… this man before me named…

"Clark Kent." I say his name with biting precision. "Or maybe I should call you Superman? Or perhaps you'd rather I call you Man of Steel? After all, that's how the world perceives you…"

I watch in delight as his jaw clenches in irritation. "Luthor," he greets through gritted teeth, causing me to laugh. The sound is like aged bamboo in the room.

I move my arms so that they are folded over my chest. "Only you, Clark… come now, I thought we were friends? After all, our friendship is the stuff of legends."

"I didn't come here to verbally spar with you," he said, failing to smile at my remark. He lifts his chin indignantly instead and mirrors my movement with his own arms. "I came to give you something that may be of great value to you."

* * *

(_Kal-el_) 

I'm glad I chose to fly here - the act of gliding through the air calms me... and Lex always had a way of unnerving people. At this moment, with that wild look in his eyes, he's gotten to me. His look is piercing now and it takes all of my new-found confidence not to squirm like a baby. The object in question resides behind me secured to my body by my belt. He's curious about it, of that much I am sure, but he doesn't trust me. He hasn't trusted me since… well, a long time ago, when I was weak and still learning to control my abilities. _Quit avoiding the statement, Kal, the truth is that he hasn't trusted you since you held him back while he watched his wife die in front of his eyes._

I purse my lips and stare straight at this man before me. I see that he shifts his body to lean back and he lifts his head as if assessing what I just said. "And what would be of value to me?"

That's my cue. I run my life like that – always in time to save the day. Reaching behind me I pull the object from its place and present it. It's a hardbound book – entirely black save for a picture in the front. He sees it from its side and gives me a questioning look. "I received it yesterday – it came with a note that just said 'give this to Lex for me.'" I pause as I recall the distinct scrawl upon the paper. I go closer and I watch as his eyes narrow suspiciously. He thinks that I'm out to kill him, but I'm not. I'm out to save those victims of crime. I gently place the book upon the surface of the table before turning away. Just before I leave I say, "Lex, it was from _her_." There is no question of who _she_ is… there is only one woman that we would acknowledge with each other. Only one woman existed between us.

Then I fly out, knowing full well that he'd want to be alone. As I dodge the buildings on my way home, I think back to the hardbound book – that black book with just one picture on it… a picture of a sunflower. I use my super-hearing to check up on Lex and hear the thump of a body falling to the ground and a raspy breath. I never looked inside – never even dared to take a close look at what had been scrawled on the pages of the book… but I know what it is. With a heavy heart I journey home, a sad little thought… or two for the man with all the money that one could only dream of – this lonely, broken man with the Sunflower Journal…

Chloe's Journal.

(_to be continued..._)


	2. 2 The Opening Page

Standard disclaimers apply...

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**_2 The Opening Page_**

"Have his movements changed at all?"

"No."

"But it's been six months since…"

"He witnessed a traumatizing event… he was too young to have to see such a brutal thing… it's only natural that he acts this way…" A moment of silence. "Hey, at least he eats and drinks. It shows that he still has a will to live…"

"But… he just sits there all day at the window… staring out… it's not healthy for a boy his age to do this…"

"You know, it actually seems like he's waiting for something… did you notice how he has rarely taken his eye off the cherry tree?"

"That's true. But if he's waiting for the sakura to appear, he'll waste the rest of his life away… that will never bloom… I was told that the tree has forgotten how… if that's even possible."

"You'd truly be surprised at the range of possibilities there are in the world…" Another lengthy pause. "Well, I just hope he gets out of this stupor before school starts."

"But that's in less than a month! And his state hasn't changed since we arrived! How can you believe that –"

"I only hope for the best… that is all I can do."

"I guess… ugh… but what about Kenshin? How is he…?"

Listless blue eyes were trained upon the cherry tree in the garden. The voices ebbed away with the soft padding of feet as the two individuals walked off. In the distance, a hollow, aged bamboo fell against a rock, releasing a stream of water that had accumulated in its hollow frame. The blue eyes never wavered from staring at the limbs of the cherry tree. Save for the occasional blink and the times he ate, he never took his eyes off that bare tree.

_I can hear it cry silently at night; I see how it stands dignified in the light of every day. The others watch unaware of its sorrow; unaware of the beauty still trapped inside. The rain has done nothing to wash away its sadness; its pain. When will it end? When will it remember again? When?_

The blue eyes closed for a moment before opening again, blank; devoid of emotion. Inside the tiny blue droplets poured down. Tears for the family he had loved so and been separated from by death and then space… Inside he reached for the warm, giving touch of a mother-sister and a father… only to capture nothing in the palm of his mind's hand.

So he chose to wait – wait for the time when someone would reach back and clasp his small hand in theirs – wait for the time when the cherry blossoms would finally bloom on the tree in the yard… he would wait for his spring – no, _their_ spring to return at last.

The bamboo fell against the rock once more, the sound echoing through the air and causing every cell in his body to quiver along with it.

* * *

(_Alexander Luthor_)

Is it possible for me to breathe? I can't really say. The control I have on my organs have failed to work. My entire body is trembling on the ground; propped up by my locked arms as I stare at this object before my eyes. I smell her. Oh heavens above, I smell that beautiful scent of her. Her image flashes through my mind with great vividness that I feel the tears stinging my eyes. This wall of anger and vengeance that I have built up during my six months alone is quickly deteriorating. But this is hers! This is her journal! With one shaking hand I move to touch it. I almost cannot believe it is there. But then there is that sunflower – bright yellows and deep brown against a captivating black void. The quick scrawl of her name – her beautiful, sunny name – is there; just barely visible. Even in the dim light I can see its stark presence. Or perhaps I am just hallucinating.

My body scrambles up again; hands fumbling – God, I'm fumbling! – for the light switch of a lamp upon my desk. I finally get one to spring to life – the electricity humming; sending waves of heat through the air so that I can barely feel it. My stomach feels like excreting all of its contents (not that there's much anyway) as I turn back to where I left – _my love, my life, my everything_ –_ her_ book.

And my knees grow weak when I see it is not just an illusion. My whole body feels like collapsing at the site – just as my heart is crumbling inside me. A gust of wind flies in through the open terrace door sweeping along with it the dust that covers my soul. One shaky step at a time – closer and closer to this heaven-sent, torturous object upon the floor. Falling once again to my knees I close my eyes and drink in the aroma of the book – _her_ book before I open my eyes once again.

Do I dare touch it again? Do I dare to open it at all? Yes; no; yes; no! The whimper slips out on its own – offending my companions; the silence and pride. Once again I move a hand to take hold of it. With a light hand, I trace the sides of it and my chin shakes. Then, with my weight upon my lower half, I use both hands to gently pick the book up once again. The sunflower – a beautiful agglomeration of yellow, deep crimsons and browns – becomes stark against the black. I cannot help myself any longer. I press the book against my chest and hold it tightly there.

And in the comfort of my rocking I sit upon the floor with the last piece of beauty she has left on this earth for me to keep. I'm not sure how long I stay there – all I know is that by the time I stop my forwards and backwards motion, my lower half is numb. But I pay no attention to it. My entire being is focused upon this wondrous book in my hand. With my thumb I lift the cover from the pages inside – little treasures that are worth more than all the money in the world – and see the precise lettering of a computerized font upon the stark white. Somewhere in my mind I hear a small crack and I twitch.

**_F_**_oreword_

_We knew **i**t was coming. It was written somewhere up there – along with the stars – a statement claiming it would h**a**ppen._

_By now, I'**m** long gone from your side; gone from the grasp of the little one that you had first regarded as your curse, but transformed in your eyes into something beautiful: our blessing. I g**a**ve you time to eva**l**uate on your own. I only hope that you have not succumbed to the darkness that has been your second calling – the path of your ult**i**mate destruction. If you have… I'm sorry. I'm sorry that I had to lea**v**e you and your wonderful son; my brother; our blessings behind._

_I know that **I** can't change time – I can't change what has occurr**e**d in the past. But I can change or strengthen your views in li**f**e by what I leave behind. So I leave you with this book – my journal. I started it when my father passed away as **i**t was a place where I could store what I felt. I changed its purpose to recording in as much detail as possible of every important event that happened whe**n** I realized the limited time we had left together._

_I just ask one thing of you: remember that I love you, Alexan**d**er Luthor, with my entire entity. I love **J**eremy Sullivan-Luthor with just as much intensity but in a different way, of course. Re**m**ember the happiness we all shared together and forget the sorrows and sufferings we faced. The things that matter most are what make us smile and glow with joy inside. That is all **I** ask for._

_With all my h**e**art,_

_C. S.-**L.**_

* * *

He stared at the page with unblinking eyes – dry eyes, unable to shed a single drop of sorrow. There was no sense of time in him – just the page; that single page that held everything and nothing at all. The sheets that followed contained Chloe's essence; her mind, a glimpse of her spirit…

He moved when a sliver of sunlight slid close to him on the floor. This time around he was steadier; surer.

(_but the walls of the dam were cracking – slowly but surely_)

With the book held tightly against his chest he walked towards his bedroom, a strangely vacant expression upon his face. Shutting the door behind him with a definitive click, he slipped into the bed with black silk coverings. Lex shifted his body until he was curled into himself. The book was close to his bent head. Eyes – blinded by the light of loss – closed; the images came fast through his mind's eye; her cheerful grin, her irritated looks, her wanton gaze. Now she was holding up her wrist for him to smell.

_It's called 'Sunflower', Lex. Don't you just love the way it smells? _Her voice rang so clearly that the dam's fissures grew larger and the water began to seep through.

"I love it," he murmured, not caring that his voice cracked; not caring that there was no one to hear him. "I love you…"

His throat closed and the dam inside him burst – freeing the torrents and waves he'd kept barraged in for so long. In a sob, Lex uttered her name for the first time in six months. His friend, his partner, his lover, his wife… "Chloe."

Across the sea, a pair of solemn blue eyes opened from a dreamless night and slowly moved to watch the cherry tree in the yard. He noticed it was hunched lower than before – its state of grandeur less prominent even in the dull sunlight of autumn.

Remy's breath hitched slightly at the sight. _A heightened sense of loss – I feel it, cherry tree. But shall you remember who I am? Do you still remember me?_ Quietly, he continued to watch, his determination intensified. The sound of the bamboo on the rock was heightened now in the lonely forest of his thoughts.

It was all just beginning…


	3. 3 Old Wounds

**_3 Old Wounds_**

He heard her run – heard the fearful footfalls echoing through the endless hallways. He stood in a single shaft of light and tried with all his might to find her. The cackling grew louder then softer, her whimpers tearing at his heart as he listened. Desperately he turned, searching for a sign of some sort – showing him the way to where she was. And there it was: a dim spark in the distance before him, moving slowly. He cried out for her – but he knew she would not hear him – would not be able to hear anything above her terror.

So he ran; ran towards her – always towards her and her light – following the cackles and fearful footfalls. He in turn was chased by darkness – a looming darkness that never left him alone. And just when he thought he would never reach her, he turned a corner and found her huddled against a door, desperately trying to claw it open. He knew she sensed some of his presence – only she had mistaken it for whatever evil had been following her and shuddered in fear. He reached out to her and upon touching her flesh – her hand that was placed on the doorknob, he felt a shiver run through him and the cackling disappeared. She never turned to him, but allowed him to guide their hands to open the door.

The light that came streaming through the new opening was blinding, but a strange, new warmth entered his body – intoxicating him and making all the more aware of the woman with him. Almost entranced, he found himself faced with an endless field of beautiful sunflowers swaying gently in the breeze. Letting go of the doorknob but keeping the woman's hand in his firm grasp, he led the both of them through the opening and into this wonderfully scented sea of yellow and brown. This vast field sloped gently upwards and at the peak, he and the woman with him stood together, basking in the beauty around him.

But even as he focused on his environment, he began to become all too aware of the woman with him. Unable to help himself he twisted her around to face him, closing his eyes before he got a glimpse of her face. He touched his lips onto hers – lightly at first, as if asking if she didn't mind and then with more fervour, plunging his tongue into her orifice and tilting his head to intensify the kiss they shared. Someone moaned in arousal – who it was, neither could tell – and he began to slide his hand up her arms to plunge his hands into her soft tresses.

When his hand reached the hairline, he felt her slump against him, her mouth stop battling with his. He pulled back and found himself staring at a decomposing corpse in an old and decaying yellow dress. Horrified, he pushed it away from him and found that all the sunflowers were wilting and rising beneath them was a vast pile of human bones. In the distance, thunder rumbled threateningly, causing him to look above him. Clouds were quickly formulating above him. He felt a drop upon his head and brought a gloved hand to touch it. As he brought his arm down, he noticed that what was raining down upon him was blood. Oddly enough, he felt himself become just as intoxicated with this downpour as he had with the field of sunflowers.

He lifted his hands and welcomed the droplets upon him. A slight tug upon his pant leg brought his attention back to the pile below him and he saw the decomposing body of the woman he had just saved and kissed was staring up at him almost pleadingly.

"Help me," she said in a faint but diamond voice. "please…"

His eyes widened and he reached out for her but she was slowly sinking into the sea of bones. Her body was re-establishing itself and she was sinking lower and lower; just like the volume of her voice… "Please… help me…"

"_CHLOE_!"

Lex howled her name as he reached out fervently into the darkness of the bedroom. With heaving breaths and fresh tears pouring from his eyes, he shot his gaze about disoriented for a moment before he realized it was all just a dream. As his panting slowed to normal inhales and exhales, he fell back onto the bed's soft embrace. He didn't want this. He'd thought he had gotten over the pain of the beauty he had lost. But there it was again – just as intense; or perhaps even more so than it had been the first time he had experienced it. With a dejected look at the book placed beside his body, he pushed the object away from him, causing it to slide across the silk and fall onto the floor. And as it hit the floor with a loud clatter, the spider began to skitter across his heart again – the spun web grasping its prey like a vice.

* * *

(_Kal-el_)

Sitting at my work desk at the Daily Planet, I go over events that have happened – things that have changed my goals and ambitions… and caused me to drop friendships along the way.

Thoughts of a small-town girl I had loved for so long causes a fresh helping of bile to rise from my throat. Oh how the world can corrupt beauty is a terrible thing to witness… and yet she could have prevented this slow weathering; could have stopped the corrosion of the natural beauty she barely grasped… but she was never strong enough. In the years I had known her she was always searching for someone's help even when she was trying to do it all on her own. And then when she was finally given the chance to prove her independence and her capabilities, it transformed into a way to show that she was weak and defenceless. And she died the same way… no wait, add in insane, selfish and vengeful to the list as well.

It's a wonder I was blinded for so long by such a weak spirit when there was someone clearly more worthy of my attentions – but who had come slightly – or rather far later than everyone else. Old friends have teased my about the old 'Lex Luthor' complex I seem to have – as the woman I have come to care greatly for – even more so than

(_weak, defenceless, insane, selfish and vengeful_)

Lana Lang – had a brown mane. But they forget about the flaxen-haired one; the one that had been so willing to walk through fire for us, her friends because we were who she had and she cherished us even when we didn't return the sentiment as equally… the similar spirit of Chloe Sullivan lives now in Lois Lane.

I heave a weighty sigh and lean back on my chair, only to topple backwards quite ungracefully and fall straight onto the ground. I hear the snickers around me and know that this was no accident. Getting up as dignified as I can I smile at the crowd, push my useless glasses up the bridge of my nose before picking up the remains of my chair. Lois comes up behind me and clucks disappointedly.

"You're just so damn easy to pick on, Kent," she berated as she shook her head. "It's a wonder you're still willing to come here every day with the stunts they keep pulling for their own kicks."

I smile to myself as I lift the pieces from the ground and bring it to the large garbage nearby. No, I don't like Lois by her looks… those are just perks. Her gung-ho attitude, so like her cousin's is what ultimately got me. Perhaps I was in love with Chloe all these years… but, no, that's not true. Chloe was a friend – a good and always loyal friend, even when I doubted her – but that's how she stayed.

_Past tense_… it's strange to have her actions dubbed as in the time before because it doesn't feel right… seeing her there as she fell to the floor didn't feel right. Seeing Lana with her sword and wild brown eyes made more sense than Chloe's passing. There was something odd about it – but that was her pale face staring sightlessly at the ceiling with her dull hazel gaze; those were her dry and cracked lips slack and hanging open; that was her limp dirty blonde hair fanned around her face… I saw it.

"Kent? Hey, Clark!" Lois's impatient voice snapped me out of whatever stupor I was in.

With my usual confused gaze I turn my gaze to her, wondering what it is that has her so worked up. She's always like that with me – always spouting about how slow I am to react or how I'm so thick-headed; Anything to prevent her from connecting me to the sure, level-headed saviour of Metropolis, Superman. Now, however, I note that there's something edgier to her; like there's something weighing on her. I quickly drop the stuff in my hand inside the bin and turn fully to her. She knows I'm concerned. As Clark Kent, I make it a point to show as much as possible without giving away my alter ego.

"I need to speak with you privately, Kent," she said in a low murmur gazing at him with hard brown eyes. "It's really important…"

Cocking my head to the side, I frown in further confusion. "Okay…" I draw out the word, knowing it would sound out my uncertainty. "What do you want to talk about?"

I see her gaze waver then – see the telltale quiver of her chin but she purses her lips in confidence. "My cousin," she answers in a strained tone.

I look at her for a moment – my thoughts coming to a screeching stop. We never talked about it… not in the few months we reacquainted ourselves to one another. Then I heave that great weighty sigh I had just moments before.

(_You knew it was coming – that impending, dark train in the distance – only now it's at the station and ready to unload its passengers – each one carrying a heavy load.)_

"Very well," I concede before glancing at my watch. "This will take a while, though… we'll talk after working hours at the deli just down the street, okay?"

She nods her head in a very curt manner then leaves. I watch as she disappears around the corner. It is later when we are seated before each other silently looking at our drinks that I feel contained and trapped. I didn't think about what I would say – just that I would say something; something to ease that painful curiosity as to why her cousin suddenly disappeared and showed up one day in a graveyard with a tombstone six feet above her. I know that she probably blames Lex for the Loss, but she's got it all wrong – he, too, feels the Loss just as intensely or even more so that it causes him to avoid it and hide behind his new misdeeds and bad business choices.

"You know, you'd think that when someone dies, that should be it," Lois suddenly says in a low voice.

No one else hears this but me.

"She, on the other hand, defies all the natural laws and ends up alive after the explosion of that safe house… only to die again for reasons beyond me." She looks at me then her eyes piercing. "You know some of what happened to her, Clark. And I need to fill in the blanks – I need to know if she's really gone or if it's some damn scheme again. I need to know who the villain is in her story."

It's hard for me to look at her now but I keep my eyes on her slowly twisting her words around in her head weighing them and the voice that she says it in. She's out for answers. That's all. And I know that I must give it to her before she digs up the dangerous ground I tread upon; before she can find information that could lead her to discovering who I am – who I hide from the world that isn't satisfied by a seemingly one-dimensional hero. I lean back in my chair and push the glasses up the bridge of my nose before gazing down at my cup of green tea.

"I won't allow you to publish anything I say about him," I warn her. She knows who I'm talking about. There is no need to say names.

Her eyebrows shoot up in incredulity. "Why the hell would I –"

"Because where he's involved you're always ready to jump to the conclusion that he's the bad guy when actually he's _not_," I interrupt in a low voice bringing my hard gaze up to hers.

"I saw her tombstone with his damn name on it!" she whispers fiercely leaning close to me. "How is it that he always ends up living and she has to turn out dead? If he had nothing to do with her death –"

"He didn't murder her," I shoot back in a fervent, but hushed murmur. I feel my irritation rise at her stubbornness and her rather narrow view on my old friend. Chloe never did that; she always kept her options open. "Look, would just shut up and listen to what I have to say or would you rather I leave you hanging with nothing but what you've got right now?"

It's the first time I've actually done anything so aggressive – and that is strange and new to her when she thinks of Clark Kent… I'm sure of that. Her open mouth closes before she slumps back looking like a girl who was denied any ice cream for dessert. A grumbled 'fine' is all I need before I sip my drink then launch into the story of what came to pass between the Shinomoris', Luthors' and Shishio's entourage.

-

-

_to be continued..._


	4. 4 Acceptance

**_4_** **_Acceptance _**

Lex watched the world around him – all striking colours that jumped out at him, burning into his irises so that when he happened to close his eyes the image would still be just as stark and real in front of him. That was before it faded into an image of Her face – soft hazel eyes that smiled all on its own, an equally tender mouth that lifted at the sides as She looked at him; watched him with amusement and love.

The delicately spun web snapped in several places and the spider moved swiftly to tend to the damage.

He opened his eyes again, the renewed pain of his Loss weighing upon the grey depths; causing his eyelids to sag noticeably. No one said a thing – for fear of his wrath – kept going on with work, feeling the gravity of his presence more than usual as he passed by them. It wasn't that he didn't portray a steady and sure businessman – he never faltered in that.

But for the past week, there was a darker aura about him – the way he never smirked anymore and the quick strides that told he was avoiding anyone and everyone. It was evident in the way he would shut himself in his office the whole day, speaking to people only through the intercom or through his phone. Yes his demeanour was different and heavier, but what was it that changed him to being so reclusive? This is what the employees wondered.

But they never asked.

So they never found out… they never found out that he hadn't slept for seven days. They never found out that he was burying himself in his work. They never found out that he was suffering quietly inside the growing void that was close to overtaking his entire being. They never found out about his Loss because he avoided it like the incurable disease that slowly ate away the soul until all that was left was an empty vessel.

They never found out that this incurable disease that consumed a person from the inside was already residing him, gnawing slowly but surely.

As he watched the world through tinted windows his insides churned. It was from starvation… not physical starvation – he'd had enough to eat since he had started boycotting sleep. This starvation ran deeper… as the worm in his mind ate away at him – feasting and he in turn did nothing to stop it. Anything but having to face that journal again… _her_ journal…

And yet to fight it only meant heightening the awareness of its presence; everywhere he went he was haunted by her image and the sunflower laid out on a hard black that looked ready to consume it wholly. And with it came the remembrance of the dream he sought to forget; with the mountain of decayed corpses, the rain of blood and his love being consumed by death.

His hand twitched at his side and a voice whispered across his mind telling him of amber liquid solace. _Drown in it_, the voice coaxed. He could almost see the beckoning hands in the darkness of his rambling thoughts; see the clear glass container with his Solace.

But that wasn't the one he wanted. He wanted what he'd lost when she went away… _he_ even left at her passing… mostly to his insistence. His failure to protect one of those he loved made him believe he was incapable of protecting anyone… which is why he sent the small package of safe Solace he had left in the world far, far away from him… because everything he cared about was destroyed; a curse passed on to each Luthor generation. Oh he ached to see the boy again – hold him close to fend off the unbearable hurting; to ease the weight from his shoulders… but he could not… _would _not risk it.

And so he stood there in his office before the tinted windows, overlooking the bustling city that burned his eyes, while his hand twitched for the easy Solace that he refused himself to have. Thoughts marched through his head with loud precise steps – one, two, one, two – thoughts of _her_, _him_, and the black journal with a bright yellow flower on the front.

The spider scuttled about desperately trying to revive its web – its tight hold around his heart… but the strings snapped as the heart swelled beyond the web's abilities. The spider's work broke, releasing its firm grip of the heart and falling in a soft whisper into the dark abyss.

Lex moved towards the intercom in an uncontrolled movement. "Cancel my meetings for the next few days." He left no explanation after that, ignoring the string of protests that followed his wake as he grabbed his jacket and stalked out of the office towards the elevator. He threw a thoroughly icy look at his secretary who had opened her mouth to continue her objection to his sudden cancellation, swiftly muting her as she fearfully watched him storm away.

Once outside of the building, he got in his readied car and shot it down the road

(_towards open wounds; wounds that had been scabbed over but the tops were ripped off revealing the unhealed tissue inside_)

towards the penthouse. He was a Luthor for fuck's sake… and Luthors confronted anything and everything head on… even when it tore their soul out in the process…

* * *

Kenshin stared at the _shoji_ across from him, purple eyes blank and red-rimmed. His body was weak from not eating much at all the past half a year. Had it really been that long? The thought struck him as odd. It felt more like seven lifetimes at least. Somewhere along the way, Sano had taken him by the lapels of his shirt dragged him upwards until his feet barely touched the floor and shouted aimlessly at him. He caught nothing of what the spiky-haired man had said, too consumed in his thoughts – thoughts of Kaoru, her smile, her life and her untimely death.

_My fault… all my fault… I should never have met her; gotten close to her… that way she would still be alive and safe from people like Shishio and Enishi and the rest of my enemies…_

His chin settled upon his chest and he gripped his _sakabatou_ harder with his hands. He dared not close his eyes for too long for fear of picturing the wondrous woman he had come to care so much about… if only she had known before she died… if only she had known how much he cared about her… how he had come to…

But he couldn't… she was long gone; into the afterlife where her father and mother were… Oh if only he could have died along with her… if only…

Kenshin barely heard the muffled thump of sock-covered feet, but saw the _shoji_ slide open. He didn't bother to look up at the face. They came and went – spoke when they wanted to, but he rarely really listened; he who was too consumed by his grief; his never ending grief and guilt and pain…

A feminine hand slid a roll of paper towards him on the floor before taking two paperweights and spreading it completely open; placing the heavy weight on either side of the delicate piece. Bowing the woman stood and left, sliding the _shoji_ shut behind her. His eyes blurred from rarely sleeping took time to adjust on the slip of paper on the ground, but when it focused, he felt his insides twist agonizingly. It was Kaoru's style of writing… his grip upon his _sakabatou_ loosened and he leaned forward, falling heavily onto his free outstretched arms. The sword clattered loudly to the ground but his ears were filled with a strange buzz. His upper limbs buckled slightly under the weight of his body, but they stayed locked so that he could read the message scripted upon the paper.

**_This is my late, but last goodbye. I was given just so much time to make this for you… I'm sorry to leave you and everyone e_**_l**se. Aoshi-san, Yahiko-chan, I love you both, my dear brothers; I will love you forever. Oka-s**a**n and Oto-san will always look down from the heavens… I, too, will look out for you.**_

**_Ken-san… I'm sorry we had so little time together… I – I care a_**_b**out you very, very much… sometimes it hurts… but it's a good hurting.**_

**_I beg you to ple_**_a**se keep living… for me, for the ones you love or care for… for what you stand for because… dying i**s**n't the challenge of life, Ken-san… trying to live is… and you never just back down from a challenge unless there is no other choice… and you have **a** choice now…**_

**_I miss you so much… I will see you._**

**_In your hearts _**_f**or all time,**_

_Shinomori Kaoru._

All Kenshin could do was drown in her words at that moment… but something niggled in the back of his mind silently… but he didn't notice it for the cry of his sorrow was louder than the cry of his logical one…

* * *

(_Alexander Luthor_)

It sits there innocent as a newborn child – heavy with responsibility and deep-rooted sentiment that only the one that helped create it can feel. My hand twitches again. The voice in my head whispers coaxingly in my mind's ear. _Drown in it_. Amber liquid that burns my throat then spreads its warmth throughout my body once downed. But I can't. I must honour every promise that I made for her – anything to compensate for the broken one.

My eyes are trained upon it – still where I left it a week before – as I walk unsteadily towards it. My feet feel heavy but I force them to move. Luthors face their problems head on, I remind myself as I grit my teeth. Once I am just a step away from it I bend over slowly, swaying slightly then grab it before pushing myself up and seating myself on the softness of the mattress. The lamp I had turned on is dim but sufficient for me to see this torturous treasure in my hand.

So many thoughts and images engulf me that it is difficult to push them away and lock them in the basement of the back of my mind. It takes several long breaths to accomplish this but soon they are gone from overcrowding me and all I am left with is the lone drop of blue liquid inside my head. I can never get rid of it no matter how hard I try to prevent it; it is there – that sign of my sorrow – our sorrow; Remy's and mine… at our Loss.

I call upon the spider to bury my heart in its web and then open the Sunflower Journal to a random (_precious_) page.

* * *

_C. S.-L._

**November 21**

Still feeling my heart pound inside my ribcage. I can't believe that I never experienced such a thing before. But I'm glad I didn't… glad that I saved myself for someone so beautiful inside and out to show me such wonders. Lex was shocked when I told him I'd never done it before, but once he got over that initial reaction… ah, heaven! It was utter heaven... now I know why so many women want him. Forget the money…

The whole night was reserved for exploration… and pleasure… oh, yes, endless pleasure! If only words could describe what it felt like; the stars that flitted in my eyes as he laid kisses all over me; the explosions inside as his fingers slid inside me… and then there's that lovely… erection… of his… I don't think anyone will fill me as completely as he has… and I don't think I'll allow myself to try anyone else. I know I have the best. And I'm not going to let go of it. No, I'm not… not ever.

Lex is out of the bathroom now I better end this before he notices that I'm writing about –

* * *

Lex knew what happened when the journal entry was cut off. He had seen her seated at his desk, writing furiously on the paper with a blush upon her cheeks with the blanket covering her front but leaving her back and part of her rear shamelessly displayed. He had swept her up into his arms, cutting off her protests with an almost desperate open-mouthed kiss, which they both drowned in. He had promptly stumbled towards the bed where they made love frantically. Something had snapped inside him when he had seen her – a strange thought that made him panic – that made him reckless; that made him lose so much control. He proceeded to show her the raw passion that only she could unleash inside him; this wild beast that had finally been released and roared its satisfaction as he climaxed with her in a final deep-penetrating thrust.

Inside, a stream of blue liquid fell in a growing puddle and in the distance the sound of a pounding against the basement door echoed.

Remy – who stared at the cherry tree with his solemn blue eyes; who resided in a land surrounded by a crystalline blue sea; who lived in a world filled with the Loss – was banging on the barrier with his mind's fist, reaching desperately for the doorknob that was too high up and the hands that would in turn clasp is own.

* * *

_to be continued..._

* * *

**Vocabulary:**

_shoji_ - Japanese sliding door

_sakabatou_ - reverse-edged sword


	5. 5 Her Story

**_5 Her Story_**

_C. S.-L._ (Lex flipped to another entry…)

**November 28**

Lex tinted the windows to one of his cars today. He wants to drive me to school – though I told him it was too much of a hassle for him – when I have class. He, being brought up like a Luthor, had insisted (and didn't stop insisting) on bringing me and just so that we wouldn't be under the close eye of the press, he brought up the option of adding tint to the windows… That's what I lo like about him; even though he's so damn stubborn, he finds a way to make both parties win.

Remy has asked if he, too, could come and drop me off, so on certain days, when Lex has time and it's not too early for Remy, we will all drive together to Met University and I'll get dropped off by my boys… hmm… what good did I do in my past to deserve such wonderful people?

I think I'll go check on Remy… and then on Lex… my boys… :)

**December 16**

It is nine days until Christmas. Lex has been gone on a business-trip in Paris for the past week. Remy is anxious for him to come back and makes it a point to voice his sentiments when his father calls… which is basically every morning and evening. I never say anything, but I know my voice carries the same wishes as the young boy… Lex promises that he'll be back in time for Christmas Eve. He never said when and I don't bother asking as his tired voice prevents me from doing so.

For the meantime, it is just Misao, Remy and I along with the wonderful Luthor staff that I have befriended. We're a merry bunch, making it a habit to play random games – sometimes with the cards, or Twister… hah; it was fun to have everyone joining in the fun. I wonder what Lex's mother would think if they saw them goofing off like this…

Daddy would be rather amused by the situation… I'm sure he is laughing somewhere…

**_Edited to add:_**

Lex came back tonight. I was just sitting in the study listening to a George Gershwin CD, attempting to read "_Obras Completas_" by Gustavo Becquer when the track changed and "_Home Blues_" began to play. Again, words seem lacking in describing the joy and relief I felt when I heard Lex speak and I saw him there at the doorway holding the remote. Who cares if he looked haggard? He was home and he was damn happy about it… or at least I made sure of it… oh yeah… Right now he's checking up on Remy and by the way that things are taking a while, the child's probably wide awake now and glad that his daddy's home.

The whole family is home for Christmas… and Lex told me that this would actually be the first holiday that he was sure he would enjoy…

But I can't help but see a slightly hidden strain in his expression when he says it… as if he's almost sure something would come along and ruin it. But I know that nothing will… That moment of pain… it isn't on a holiday…

I know it is coming. I hear it in whispers as I dream of the field of sunflowers and the dark corridors; of the raining blood and mountain of corpses… I haven't told Lex that I have been having that dream over and over again. Where I used to wake up fearful and cold, I only wake up with a deep feeling of sadness.

Ugh! Change of subject! No more tears or dark thoughts today. Lex is back and he'll be here for Christmas and I'm making sure that he'll also be here for New Year's… though that may be asking for much from a businessman… we'll see…

Lex is back and Remy's with him… holding – ooh, my saviours; they brought a lovely cup of _coffee_ and one mug of chocolate milk for Remy! (No height-stunting drinks for my little boy!) Long night ahead of us, I guess! Not a problem for me… not at all…

* * *

(_Kal-El_)

"I considered Chloe a good friend of mine – a best friend… but apparently my idea of a best friend was different than hers… and I have to admit that my version was way more warped than hers. I now regret the way I treated her – hell, most people would feel that way when they lose that particular thing that they've been mistreating… only now… I owe her a lot – for her loyalty, her strength of character and the belief that I was capable of being a good friend in return… I think she saw more than I was capable of at the time… I have many regrets when it comes to the relationship I had with Chloe… but let's not go into that.

"The thing is that Chloe found out I was confiding mostly in Pete and – Lana – at the time and only went to her when I needed help getting information on whatever it was that was occupying me at the time. That was, in effect, the last straw. After all, I trusted people who weren't even present in Smallville with my dilemmas – Pete was in Wichita with his mother because his parents were – well, having trouble in their marriage and… Lana… was in Paris – and she was always there, sticking up for me, seeing the good person I really wasn't at the time. When we graduated, she stopped talking to me in total – didn't even look at me when the graduation ceremony was over – or even when she was leaving for Metropolis.

"I knew that when she cut someone off like that, it was basically final, but I denied it for a long time, believing that I was still somehow on her good side and a friend of hers. But when I tried to speak to her or see her, I'd always miss her – in short, she was avoiding me. Being the dense idiot I was, I thought perhaps luck wasn't on our side. So I left it to chance that we would meet.

"Two years – that's how long it took before chance finally considered our situation. I was just supposed to help Lex with a problem – a particularly big problem that involved a gang that was out to kill him and those related to him. I went to his mansion, expecting to see a cold Luthor, but instead I come face to face with an angry Sullivan _and_ a cold Luthor… double-edged knife really.

"There were two things that I found out that day – one was that I didn't have a friend in Lex or Chloe anymore and another was that they had gotten into a relationship with one another. At first I was shocked. Then they kissed in front off me and I was basically furious… I felt as if they betrayed me… but I know now that was such selfish things to think… You don't have to tell me that, Lois… I left the mansion that day with that mindset, though. I never really wanted to see them again… maybe if I was really drunk and not myself at all I'd be willing to see them, but in that mindset that I was in, I didn't want to.

"As it turned out I ended up seeing her – a few months later and clear-headed. I was just visiting Pete – he was still fine with me and transferred back to Metropolis for university… I – I didn't know what happened to Lana after the first year… she just suddenly stopped communicating altogether… Anyway, I was there at his apartment, just talking to him about a few things when someone knocked on his door. Pete answered and it was Chloe… or Chloe, a little boy and another woman. I later found out that the boy was Lex's son, Chloe's adoptive brother and the nephew to the woman that accompanied the two.

"When I saw Chloe that time, there was something different about her already – she still had her usual zest for life and was still rather snarky about everything, but she was a lot more forgiving… it was a wonder, but she actually started talking to me as if I – as if nothing bad had happened between us. She surprised me further when she gave me a hug and a smile before she left.

"I can't say that the other two – Remy (that's Lex's son by the way) and Misao (the boy's aunt) – showed the same sentiments. They were actually very wary of me…" I shake my head and take a sip at my now cold drink. "I don't blame them though. I did a few things that are worth… Sorry, going off course again.

"Well, that was the day that Chloe and I reconciled… sort of… it was the second week of December and Lex was in Paris dealing with business. After that, I didn't see her until… until I found out that she was kidnapped over four months later by the people that I tried to warn them about… and at that time, they were just newlyweds and fresh from their honeymoon…"

* * *

He proposed in January – the twenty-first to be exact – when the rain fell quietly in the awakening day. Remy was wedged between them, deep in slumber and with a light smile upon his little face. Chloe, too, had been sleeping, but Lex's light but insistent shake had woken her up. It was there, with the rain pattering lightly against the window and the family that mattered in his arms that he proposed to Chloe… In a state of shock, the blonde was presented with a beautiful but not too gaudy white gold and diamond ring and his very first 'I love you'. Remy didn't miss any of the action as he was jarred awake by Chloe's sobs and the unaccustomed sound of his father's close to hysterical laughter.

Remy pulled back from the hugs and cheer to see the two adults give a heartfelt kiss upon each other's lips. The young child had grown used to the emotions that hadn't been familiar to him before – this kind of love that was just as intense but different from that he shared with Lexie and Chloe. He had no reason to feel left out for he knew that he fit in the picture, too… after all, where would they be without him?

(_Separate but happy and alive. Chloe would have become the person she wanted to be and Gabe would be alive and Lex would be safe from Shishio and monsters that were never satisfied until their target was absolutely ripped into small pieces. They would be separate, but happy and alive. Mommy would be alive and the family wouldn't have fallen apart. Kaoru-san would have been here with Aoshi-san and Yahiko-san… Without you, that's how they would have been._)

Remy's blue eyes snapped open and he screamed and screamed – the sound ripping through the silent night like the _katana_ that was driven into an innocent. "**_Iie_**!" A high-pitched, piercing cry filled with so much denial. "**_Iie_**!" He scrambled on all fours to the window and searched the cherry tree's appearance desperately… panting he saw accusing limbs pointing menacingly at him but when he blinked, it was gone… all that was left was the slumped arms of defeat and that same deep-seated sadness he had seen since he began watching it.

When Misao came in frantic fear for her nephew, she held him close to her body and felt the boy's tears stain her silk robe… little tributes to his Loss… as well as Lexie's. The woman held the boy; rocking them back and forth while the hollow bamboo hit the rock in a slow sad rhythm, releasing streams of blue liquid at each beat.

* * *

_C. S.-L._ (Last entry)

**May 6**

Beirut is beautiful – this place reconstructed from ruin; the architecture a reminder of what had been destroyed, but with new life generating through its buildings and streets. The crowds come out mostly at night and the lights and life never go out until the dawning sun comes up… the people are reluctant to leave, too consumed in the joy of being in the moment – being around so many exuberant faces; faces of old couples seated in the street cafes lining both sides of the stone-paved streets; faces of the young children on skates or on bicycles going round and round the clock at the centre of the city square.

How ironic that it would stand amongst all this life – this place which seems to float above all the harsh reality that hides within the reconstructed pillars. The timepiece – positioned where life in this city converges – seems to hold it all down and ground it; a constant reminder that they must go back to ploughing the fields, the business deals, the harsh realities of battling nations and the struggle to live. I wonder at times how they can keep going like this… and yet the manner in which they live seems balanced in some strange way.

It makes me wonder… and then understand… I share this kind of lifestyle they have; no matter what is ahead of me, I know that there has been a balance between harsh reality and blissful fantasy. This is my field of sunflowers and Lex is the man in white who saves me from the Voice…

God, I'm afraid for Lex… it is probably wrong, given that this is our honeymoon, but… I walked through the square with the joyous and loud crowd and that image of that clock haunts me still… how it reminds me of how limited of a time we have… and it reminds me of the rain of blood… rain of blood – rain – reign – reign of blood and death.

But I don't want him to succumb to this… he must be like the ones who come here every night with the intention of enjoying whatever time they have, no matter what is to come in the light of morning… for they always have another chance for happiness and joy… but will he see that? Can he see that? The end is coming, but shall he see beyond this landmark and find the life in this devastation? Only time will tell… and I hope – God, I hope so much that he will…

* * *

But he didn't; hasn't. Six months since his Loss, he was still trapped in the harshness of life – night and day – trapped in the nightmare of the mountain of corpses and the

(_reign_)

rain of blood that marred his purity…

For a moment he blamed the boy that brought them together… but then again, Lex had started this cycle – of life… death… and life after this death… Only now he was stuck – stuck between death and the life after this death… he had only himself to blame – this man that destroyed everything; everything that destroyed this man. Back and forth it goes, in a small circle in the bigger cycle. Slipping under the black covers and closing the lamps – the clicks definitive – Lex gave up consciousness and finally slept with tear stains on his cheeks and eyes rimmed red.

(_to be continued..._)


	6. 6 The Coming of Mourning

**_6 The Coming of Mourning_**

(_Six months earlier…_)

(_Shishio Makoto_)

I hear the whirring of the airplane engines in the distance and a flashing light in the dawning day. The sun has touched some of the perimeter but I stand safe in the shadows of the present night with a smile upon my face. I glance at my young pupil, who shifts impatiently from one foot to the other and I widen one eye.

"You are not displaying the proper manner of a student under my tutelage," I remark.

The shifting stops, but hard eyes – brown, wildly determined eyes – are trained at the distant plane making its way in. I, too, bring my gaze back to the skies where the flashing dot has transformed into a blob of sorts. My pupil's destiny awaits. This causes me to smile – this special smile of satisfaction, although it is not my directly my personal triumph.

My hand snakes out to latch onto the supple waste of my woman and pull her towards me. Yumi – with her violet, intoxicating lips and lustrous eyes – slides her limbs against me, distracting me thoroughly. I wonder why I only met her just over four years ago – how I survived so long with a woman equally scheming as me is a wonder. I had stopped believing in blessings and angels, but she is my exception in all things. Apart from my fierce desire for revenge, I have an equally fervent need for her. It is like a never ending combustion of chemistry between us. I doubt there is another connection like ours.

As I think this, I trail a firm touch up and down her hip. I am a rage of desire now mixed with a great sense of satisfaction.

The whir of the airplane engine grows louder and the speck in the sky has grown to the definitive shape of the aircraft. The smile on my face only grows.

I see the clench of my pupil's hands and feel a rumbling chuckle grow in my chest. _Soon, my child, very, very soon you shall have your revenge…_ and it comes closer.

* * *

(_Alexander Luthor_)

Something shifts inside of me as we near the landing strip in Metropolis – a mountain that I had hoped would stay put for a longer period of time had moved so that the way was clear for passing.

(_The way of our destinies_)

My arm tightens unconsciously around the waist of my love, my life, my everything: Chloe, now a Luthor in name. Her body shifts in slumber but she doesn't wake. Glancing down, I note that there is a small frown marring her smooth skin. I nuzzle her head lovingly, inhaling her scent – that wonderful sunflower scent; _… don't you just love the way it smells?_ She sighs in her sleep – an action that I was planning to do. I pull away far enough to see that the frown is replaced by a relaxed smile. How peaceful she looks…

I hear the chime of bells and I glance at the clock I had ordered to be within the cabin. _5:30 am_, it says in big bold lettering. Morning is slowly making its way across our path and I suddenly feel a wave of panic. But it's only morning – the dawn of a new day… but something clicks in my head – something that sounds like the locking of the door. But to what, I wonder… what is it that it bars me from?

I choose to ignore it, despite its insistent presence. The land below approaches at an alarmingly fast rate – but that is expected. Still, my free hand twitches on my lap – as if wanting to pick up the nearby intercom to tell the pilot to turn back – turn back to where reality didn't meet their fantasy – where morning never comes.

But I stop the urge – stopped for I need to have my curse that has turned into my blessing – our blessing. Remy is waiting for his father and mother-sister to come and hold his hand once again.

The sound of many doors locking in a resounding click fills my head once again and I clench my jaws together.

* * *

_The tip glinted silver and red. _

* * *

(_Jeremy Sullivan-Luthor_)

Am I holding onto _oba-san_'s hand? Yes, it's there. Soon I will hold Chloe's and Lexie's hands. They have big palms and fingers – they make me feel safe. Their arms are big, too. They can hold me and each other, too.

I can see them in the sky. I point to _oba-san_ – 'Look! There they are! I see them! I see them!' – I smile and show my teeth. _Oba-san_ smiles at me when I look at her instead of the airplane. I am happy – happy that they are coming. Closer and closer they come. I can hear the vroom of the airplane, but it is still quiet. The sun is coming now. The sun is coming out.

But why am I scared? There is something here. But I don't know where it is. It's a scary thing… who is it? Closer and closer Lexie and Chloe come.

The _vroom_ of the airplane is louder and I get more scared. Who else is here? Who else? I'm looking around; looking and looking but I don't see. I feel a scary happiness coming from somewhere – someone. Go away!

'Go away!' I scream at someone – no one at all.

* * *

_Eyes wide and unseeing stared up at the ceiling._

* * *

Chloe was jarred awake by the airplane touching down upon the earth. Turning her head slightly, she eyed the clock. 5:45 am, it read in big bold letters. Lex's hand around her waist began to rub the area it was in contact with and she looked up at him with a sleepy smile. He in turn smiles back and brushes his lips against her temple.

A small cocoon-like object took shape. Inside a baby spider began to form.

The airplane began to slow and soon they were readying to get off. Through the cabin window, the morning's light shined, disabling the couple to see the airport and the people that waited for them.

(_Cursed coming of morning… mourning…_)

Although reluctant, the two got up, hands clasped tightly; bodies close to one another… Siamese twins, but not really. With every step closer to the exit, the stiffer they became. The hiss of the cabin doors bit into their ears and Chloe jumped slightly in reaction. As the door opened, light of morning flooded in, blinding them momentarily. A figure stepped in – an unidentifiable lithe silhouette of a figure.

The sound of their heartbeat thumped loudly in their ears. In the background, they heard Remy's desperate scream – a cry like bamboo hitting against a rock, shattering the silence. _No! No! Go away! Stay away from her!_ The person did not heed his pleas – rather the individual drank it in along with the look of disbelief written on Lex's face.

Before the bald Luthor could voice out a protest, Chloe was wrenched out of his grip and he was upon the ground, unconscious from a blow to the head by the handle of a sword. When Chloe stared into the eyes of her captor, there was no trace of malice… just a deep sadness and a little smile.

"How have you been, Lana?" she lightly asked the other woman all in black.

* * *

_Someone smiled. Another's anguished cry rang out._

* * *

_--_

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_to be continued..._


	7. 7 The End

**_7 The End_**

_The spirit in the body is like wine in a glass; when it spills, it seeps into the air and earth and light… _

– Anne Michaels ('Fugitive Pieces')

(_Kal-El_)

"Sometimes there is no legitimate reason why people end up being victims of a crime. By legitimate I mean a worthwhile reason that morally justifies what they were subjected to. With Chloe… there was nothing to rationalize her death – her murder – or the havoc that the Loss has wreaked. You see, you can't place all the blame on Lex – not for the bad business deals and his cold-heartedness. If you look beyond what you see now, you'll realize just how broken he is – how much pain he feels when wakes up every day to find that his wife is gone.

"… Yes, it's true; I am evading the subject at hand. I haven't quite come to terms with it – much like you, Lois. I mean, how can you really believe that someone you know – who is around the same age as you – has actually passed away? The truth is, you can't until everything regarding that person and their passing actually clicks… and even though I saw what I did, it didn't make sense. I don't know what it was in that instance, but… Perhaps I should actually explain what happened after Chloe was kidnapped."

* * *

Purple eyes flashed amber in fury; fury that was directed to his enemy – and to himself. Stupidity, disbelief… how could he not have seen this coming? As he rode through the streets, he felt desperation run through him. Himura Kenshin, the best and richest assassin on the entire planet, could not protect the one person that mattered most to him. His hands gripped the clutches almost desperately and he gunned the two-wheeled vehicle down the road towards the warehouse. Oh, he always knew where Shishio was – just as Shishio knew where he in turn was. It was just a matter of time before the bandaged man struck.

Kenshin never anticipated for him to do something as personal as this – _take away the one you love; strike him where he is most vulnerable _– the thing was, it wasn't Shishio's style. And yet there he was, Kaoru-less and angry and vengeful.

He hadn't bothered waiting for Aoshi this time… not when time was not on his side. The message upon the wall said it all:

_The demon shall tear your angel into pieces… 0706_

The numbers swirled around his mind. It was 6:50 in the morning…

* * *

Lana Lang stood in a shaft of dim light. For so long she had been the innocent little girl in the pink princess outfit on the cover of Times – for so long she had believed the world was filled with enormous joy waiting to be unleashed by her.

It took her long enough to realize that there was more than small-town crushes and melodramas. There was the rawness of life beyond the borders that she had for so long considered home. That was why she left. Many thought it was because she was running away… well, perhaps that was part of the reason – Clark had made pulled her to him and then pushed her away afterwards; it was a little game of tug-of-war – only the whole town knew about it; whispered to each other as they watched her walk by every morning, afternoon and evening – their little, pink fairy princess; a pitiful, beautiful creature.

No, she didn't leave because of the sad little looks, the endless lies and the cycle of breaking and mending her heart; she didn't leave Smallville for that…

Only after she was finally in Paris – thousands of miles away from her 'home' – did she realize just what she had left behind… and that this new place she had set foot upon was immune to fairy princesses – young or not… and then there was the heir to the world of opportunities. For so long she had believed that she had grown on him; gotten under his skin and resided there. There were so many indications of this – the recital of her favourite poem, the self-defence lessons he provided… the longer she stayed away, the more she wanted him.

And she was used to getting what she wanted.

So she came back – back to where her problems were – where a farm-boy and his loving foster family resided – where his not-so-best friend and her new prospective lover (she hoped) was. It was her mistake to make – and she made it.

His rejection cut through her – cleaved her world in two only to wrench it into smaller pieces until all that was left were the scattered foundations of her entire life. The humiliation of it all – how she had confronted him within his home only to be pushed away from him just after the initial touch of their lips in disgust – remained branded in her mind; playing over and over; touch, tension, push, then fall. Chloe's sudden appearance – _Lex… Lana… I – I'm sorry, the butler just told me to come in_ – made what she experienced all the more intense – vivid; all the colours, the sneer upon Lex's face, then the sudden blur as tears began to fall from her eyes. Perhaps it was the fact that instead of true remorse, there was mild interest and amusement on the blonde's face that made her start hating the girl.

She looked down at the unconscious body at her feet – face down, the blonde tresses fanned out; her hand itching to grab a handful and yank at once; see if the flesh would rip off along with the strands of dirty gold. Something welled inside her and her vision grew red before it faded with the slow breath she took. She saw the world primarily in red or black.

(_Vengeful, angry, selfish, insane…_)

She glanced at the doorway, and saw a subordinate of Shishio-sama signal her. A smile graced her lips. _Destroy the heir to the world by destroying his foundations as he had with me._ Lana hunkered down and pulled the body upwards, facing away from her before she unsheathed her katana.

* * *

Remy sat, struggling and bound on the ground. He wasn't feeling her – he couldn't see her aura. She was on the ground in front of him and still there was nothing emanating from her body that was recognizable. He struggled even more, ignoring the harsh burn at his ankles and wrists as the ropes rubbed painfully upon his baby-soft skin.

Inside him were violent waves – waves that overtook all the joy and calm, leaving him distraught and fearful. Sister… mother… his Chloe… Lexie's Chloe… the child whimpered and struggled some more. He knew what was coming but he refused – something in his mind screamed that it wasn't real; it was all a hoax. But the black determination of their captor made him doubt – doubt the mind's voice that said she wasn't going to…

Something in the captor's demeanour changed. Blue eyes widened and the sound of rushing water filled his ears. He watched helplessly as the brunette lifted the body from the floor – so close; too far away to stop her – and unsheathe the sharp weapon from its place upon her waist. Their backs were to the young child, but the blade was shining in the artificial light – shining like something beautiful. If Remy didn't know better, that's what he would have thought. But the blade was ugly to him – painfully ugly. I didn't want to watch, but his eyes – wide and blue and filled with denial – stayed rooted on the pair. Just beyond his line of vision was the door where the pattering of feet could be heard.

The _katana_ was posed for the kill. And just as Lex and Clark reached the doors, Lana gave a full-fledged smile and drove her weapon through the blonde's heart.

The air was filled with the screams of those were given their loss.

* * *

_The tip glinted silver and red. Eyes wide and unseeing stared up at the ceiling. Someone smiled. Another's anguished cry rang out. It was the coming of mourning when the reign of blood began…_

* * *

7:07… His chest heaved from excursion – not only the physical but emotional. She was propped up against the wall, her beautiful blue eyes open and slightly shaded by her soft black bangs. The sword was still protruding from her chest and a large X was carved on to the porcelain skin of her cheek.

Kenshin staggered towards Kaoru's body – falling short of getting to her. His eyes – so purple – were filled with an unspeakable anguish. He knelt before her body with the weight of silence upon his shoulders.

_Gone…_

_Too late…_

In the other room, Lex was thinking the same thing.

Grey eyes watched as the blood slid down the blade paused at the tip and then let go. The drop of blood seemed to be suspended in the air – then slowly fall towards the ground – lured by gravity to touch the dirty ground. And when it hit the sound was magnified – resonating like hollow bamboo against solid rock… or shattering glass.

It instigated something inside him – this rage that was beyond rationality. With an animalistic howl he brought up his hand – _with a gun in his grasp_ – and pulled the trigger. It was a mindless moment. Clark forgot to move. Lana was too slow to get out of the way. Remy sat frozen, eyes filled with disbelief and tears, just a few feet away watching his Lexie.

The bullet lodged itself between the brunette's eyes. Lana fell back with a loud thud and her blonde captive dropped forward. Lex saw Remy at that moment. Their eyes locked together and they forgot to breath.

_Solace,_ they thought in unison.

Lex ran towards his son only to stop halfway. Remy knew what he was thinking… he shook his head at his father. _It's not true…_ But the bald Luthor wasn't convinced. The rigidity of his shoulders told the young boy of the man's resolve. With his back still turned to Clark, he said, "Quickly take Remy to Shinomori. Tell him to take my son – his nephew – to Japan. He is – is not safe with me here in Metropolis."

With an apathetic look upon his face, Lex regarded the blue-eyed raven-haired boy before slowly turning away. He shut out the muffled screams – desperately telling him not to leave him – and walked away... willing himself to forget everything…

_The smiles, the laughter, the pouts, the games, the mischievous looks, the cakes books happy moments never ever ever forget I love you so much sunflower times by the pool making love never leave me…_

Forget.

Remy didn't see or hear from his Lexie for over six months… there was only the bare cherry tree to keep him constant company – and remind him of the dead blonde, his father killing her murderer, and the bald man walking away from him.

FIN

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mwhahaha just kidding! ;)

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_to be continued_


	8. 8 Written Between the Lines

**_8 Written Between the Lines_**

(_Kal-El_)

She is quiet now; pensive in that intense way of hers. It always intrigues me when she gets like this. _What's going through her brain_, I ask myself. That little frown of hers isn't delicate, but almost a full-fledged scowl. I'm almost tempted to smile.

But I don't. I can't will myself to move a muscle – not when I just finished talking about my best friend's death.

Lois assesses the information for herself. I told her what I can tell her – but I didn't tell her all. I didn't tell her about how Lana's sword is tinted slightly green preventing me from moving any closer; didn't tell her that I heard the boy's screams were what signalled me – over two hundred miles away – of the kidnapping. The inward smile I share with myself is rather humourless. The one person that I wish I could turn to in order to reveal the truth and I can't.

She shifts in front of me and I see that she's watching me. She looks rather tired – the (_semi_) truth being a journey in itself for her. To relive the Loss is always painful… I can only imagine how it is for Lex. I bring my eyes from her form to the window of the deli – noting that there is too little activity going on to be nine in the evening. Glancing down at my watch I see it's nearly midnight and the shop is closing soon. Rather reluctantly, I motion to Lois and then move to get up.

When we step out onto the sidewalk, she huddles into her jacket. She refuses to look at me for a moment and I stand there quietly waiting for her to dismiss me – to get angry at me. When she finally turns her face towards me, I see there is nothing but sad gratitude.

"Thank you for telling me, Clark," she whispered.

"Would you like me to accompany you home?"

She shakes her head. "It's okay. I – I need time to absorb all of this information." She smiles half-heartedly. "I'm starting to find closure now…" I see her attempt to lighten up the mood – she punches me lightly on the arm and shakes her head. "See you at seven, Kent."

She's hurting, but she refuses to show it – trained to hide what makes her seem vulnerable. As she walks away from me, I wish to all the higher powers that I could give into the urge to pull her back and hug her. But I can't.

And I don't. All I do is watch.

* * *

_You will always run in the darkness – but there will always be a shaft of light somewhere – that bright section that pierces your sensitive eyes. It makes you want to burrow deeper into the shadows – to be forgotten forever and ever. But you know what is to come. No matter how many turns you make, you'll always end up at the same landmarks. Hide behind the façade of greatness – behind the shadow of your accomplishments; your mistakes. But she will always appear – her fearful footfalls echoing in the recesses of your mind._

_And you will run to her._

_This strange magnetic force pulling you to her – to console her; making you want to consume her wholly – directing you the 'right way' – the only way. The Voice she runs away from is what you want to save her from… but as you draw closer, you wonder if that Voice is you. When you finally hold her, she melts into you and you feel overwhelmed by her presence – and already succumb to all that begin to bind you to her. And then you know the doors will open – open for you, with her in your loving grasp._

_It will lead you to the field – that field of yellow blooms that turn towards the light. Together you stand amidst this field of happiness – forgetting things that you should always remember._

_That is your mistake._

_When you pull away from her you will see you've tainted her with your recklessness, your faults, your mistakes, your broken promises everything that you should have been responsible for but were too preoccupied to remember…_

_The bloody rain will begin to pour upon you as she sinks beneath the surface – no more sunflowers; just old skeletons; ghosts to haunt you once again – and you will forget her; for a moment in your life you forget beauty in happiness in joy in water-washed colours. There is just the rain of blood and you in your pure suit that is quickly becoming tainted._

_… because you allow it…_

_You will hear her voice then – a faint keening in a distant place. You look down to see her face disappearing beneath the surface of decay and you reach out and grab the hand that reaches out to you. Together you sink beneath the surface – her hand gripping your hand; your hand gripping her hand – and you plunge into the darkness once again. Her fingers; her palms; soft and slightly callous against your own – begin to slip free of you and you lose her again._

_And you will feel empty._

_Staring blindly into the atramentous abyss you want to give up. You forget and allow the guilt and fears and the anger and the despair to swallow you. There is nothing left but this Loss and you._

_Something rustles in the distance and you see a lone page flutter towards you. You ignore it – thinking it is nothing. And it rushes past you – its edges creating a small cut upon your cheek as it moves. There are more rustles then. And more pages flutter past you. You revel the feeling of these paper cuts – the sting of invisible scratches they create that you feel you deserve._

_One fails to cut you – instead it hits you flat against your face and you have no choice but to take a look at it._

_The opening page…_

_The words dance on the page – a trick of the eye. But soon the letters begin to fade except for a few chosen ones – ones that you never took notice of until that moment. Heart beats faster._

_Her voice begins to float towards you and you look up from the page and see her form in the distance – a faint silhouette._

_'Almost there… save me… find me…'_

Lex's eyes snapped open – a sweat sprinkled across his body and the black silk covers a tangle at his feet. Frantically he turned on the bedside lamp, snatched up the journal and opened it to the first page.

The spider passed away quietly, fading into the beautiful darkness. An internal smile…

* * *

(_Kal-El_)

I get to my apartment. It's a dark place – small and confining… much like Smallville, but less welcoming. I sigh and make my way over to the answering machine. I just got it a week ago. It was an impulse buy. The red light flashes. I have a message. Maybe Lois wants to speak some more.

_You have one new message_. "Clark. We need to talk. It's important... it's about Chloe."

Every cell in my body freezes. Then I'm flying, faster than I ever have been to pay my friend a visit. Her name rings in my head. His voice as he speaks her name… it's the first time he's said it since the incident over six months ago.

* * *

"Himura-san."

"Hnn."

"There's a phone call for you."

"Very well… Hello."

_You know, don't you?_

"As you do, I'm sure."

_Fiji._

"Labasa."

_We're idiots._

"Doesn't take a genius to figure that out."

_Took us long enough._

"You're aware that they'll skin us alive..."

_That's highly probable…_

"I'm going to tell her I love her, though..."

_That might stop her full-fledged assault on you…_

"…"

_I'm on my way over there now._

"Good… He's been waiting for you, you know."

…

"I'll probably sound like a hypocrite when I say 'you should have been there for him.'"

_Yeah, you do sound like one… Tell him I'm on my way._

"He already knows."

_… How?_

"Because of his cherry tree… It's beginning to blossom."

_--_

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_--_

_to be continued..._

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**A/N:** the dream sequence was an adaptation of the original vision that the old woman had of Lex's future...

Feedback... would be nice... oo


	9. 9 Bamboo

**_9 Bamboo_**

_They are mistaken to be weak and soulless; lifeless shells. But then the storm hits; howling winds, battering rain and they do not break. Strong in the midst of chaos, it stands proudly taking the beating but never giving in._

(_Kal-El_)

They're digging her grave.

It's so profane – this disturbance of the dead – _is she dead_? I glance over at Lex and then Lois – who Lex wasn't all too please to see I had summoned – watch as their faces are drawn in strained concentration. I have to hide my smile when I see their similar expressions. It's a strangely exhilarating experience – this feeling of finally being able to smile and not feeling sad about it.

The dirt is hauled off of the coffin in big chunks and closer we are to the body – _it should be decayed now; just some rotten meat and bones and that wide skeletal smiles with hollow eyes so hollow that you just don't know what to do with yourself when you see it_ –

Soil is brushed away finally and the coffin is exposed. The smile that had been recently planted on my lips falls away and the air from my lungs is gone in one sudden swipe. For a moment those on the job pause then with a small prayer – _the Father, the Son, the Holy Spirit, Amen_ – they take hold of the casket lid and pull it to the side.

I choke. Lois lets out a gurgled sound and pushes her face into my chest. My shirt becomes damp with her tears and her shudders run through my body. I glance at Lex, whose jaw muscles are clenching and unclenching, has a strange look upon his face.

The body in the casket – with blonde hair, a pert nose, full lips and a defined figure – is fully intact. I'm dazed – how can that be? Where is my friend then? The message on the opening page of my friend's journal is true. Chloe is alive somewhere and she's been waiting to be saved for over half a year. The urge to just jump up and fly down the continent to the little island that she was in is great, but I can't let Lois know…

Her voice breaks through the heavy air – the sound of cement cracking. "How – how is that possible?" She shakes her head and looks at me with wide disbelieving watery eyes. "But you told me – all of this was a lie? All this pain – I –" The sound is like an ice pick that is slowly digging into my chest. It feels like I'm bleeding inside.

I swallow the invisible rock in my throat. "I didn't know, either…"

Her gaze becomes hard and then she swivels her head towards Lex who glances blankly back at us. "You…" she accuses in a menacing tone. "You were stringing us along the whole time. You _knew_ –"

"I was completely oblivious until just shortly before I told – Clark," he counters, his voice rich with intensity.

"If he was stringing us along, don't you think – Chloe –" It's still difficult to get her name out despite this new discovery "– would have appeared by now?"

She is seething – her eyes, however, are embers of a dying fire. I'm sure she knows her claim is baseless and she wishes she was right. I give her shoulder a light squeeze of reassurance… but my eyes are now focused on Lex.

His demeanour has been so controlled – so blank. I would have expected more of a reaction from him. But there is none and I know for a fact that he is holding back. And for that moment, I admire him. Despite his bad business dealings, his vengeful nature of late, he holds strong at a time of great stress.

_He is like the bamboo… seemingly hollow, but in truth…_

I find his eyes upon me and I give him a grateful half-smile. My silent thank you resonates across the air and he seems to understand it. For a moment, his expression relaxes and I think I see the thank you returned. Milliseconds later it is gone and he is once again the businessman with a cruel look that is featured on the newspapers daily. If only the world knew – knew the human beneath the stony mask… damn media.

"So, we find her now," Lois says. "We find my cousin and kill the bastards that made us suffer."

"We can't just jump into this," I warn in a soft voice. "These are powerful people – with lots of money –"

"Baldy over there has money, doesn't he?" she nods her head over to him and I see his expression darken perceptively.

Before I can piece together an answer, he takes the floor. "You think money can solve all of your problems. Despite popular belief, however, it can't. When you're faced with enemies such as the ones that I have, money can't do you much good. It's wit that is boundless, Miss Lane. Perhaps your not knowing expresses your true ignorance, which is a wonder, given your close ties with your cousin, who was always using her intelligence to get out of sticky situations."

Lex draws closer to us and I can feel that Lois is intimidated by him. That is the affect he wants on her and he smiles coldly at her reaction. I am almost tempted to tell him not to, but Lois needs to know the extent of the circumstances. Behind him his men begin to pack the dirt back into the hole. "The fact of the matter is," he continues in a low voice, "Shishio is a strong enemy, Miss Lane. You should know that given that you've been a reporter for almost half a year. He has just as much power as I do and fighting against such a person, who still has a taste for blood and revenge, is not easy. My wit and a couple of allies are all I have to defeat him."

Lois says nothing, merely looking disgruntled as he looks at him. I unconsciously find myself rubbing her arm sympathetically. When she finally chooses to speak it is resigned; tired… a tone I haven't heard since – well it has been a long time… "I want to help… I want my cousin back… I want my friend back."

"As I want my wife and partner back, Miss Lane," Lex murmurs.

Lois looks at him then – _really_ looks at the man before her – and she gives him a teary smile. "I never would have believed that you would love someone as reckless as Chloe… what happened to your fetish with brunettes?"

He snorts at that. "I've had enough experiences with them to last three lifetimes, thank you."

Suddenly I feel as if the knots in my stomach loosen. The grey skies don't mar the light – it merely accents the life it shelters.

Chloe… we're coming to save you…

* * *

Misao stared dumbstruck as Kenshin strode across the wooden planks of the open hallway. She was sure he was an illusion – something her mind was cooking up from the six months that she hadn't seen him out of his room. She stumbled forward, following him around the bend and seeing him – physically present one soft step at a time – moving towards the kitchen.

"Ke – Ken-san?" she croaked disbelievingly.

He stopped and stood for a moment at her voice. When he turned to her, his amethyst eyes were soft and slightly bloodshot, but his mouth was turned upwards in a smile. "Misao-dono," he greeted in a hoarse voice.

She didn't realize there were tears until she felt them fall upon her chest – warm and wet and happy. The raven-haired girl was running towards him, hurling herself into his form. He staggered back, still weak from not eating enough and from sitting for so long. "_Baka yarou_," she whispered. "You had us all worried."

"_Gomenasai_… _sessha_ didn't mean to inflict such pain upon you."

"Well you did," she snapped against his chest. When he said nothing, she sighed. "But I'm glad you are fine now."

He chuckled and squeezed her lightly. "I might not be if I don't eat. I think I could down an entire horse!"

The younger woman suddenly jumped back, blue eyes wide. "_Kami-sama_! Come on, Ken-san, I'll get Omasu to cook a great feast for you!" Grabbing his hand she dragged him along, the last word filtering out of his mouth being a frazzled '_oro_!'

* * *

Remy stood in the yard, staring at the cherry tree with his blue eyes. A winter breeze rushed passed him, soft fingers running through his hair, but he didn't move. When the air stilled, he blinked slowly and breathed. The bamboo knocked against the rock once, releasing the water it had accumulated while the sound resonated across the yard. The young boy – _so much within for such a little body_ – took a small step forward, then another. He got closer and closer to the tree and when he was just a length away from it, he stopped. Once again he took a drawn-out breath and blinked slowly. At the sound of the bamboo against the rock, Remy slowly raised his hand towards the trunk. Seconds lengthened to seem like minutes – hours – days.

Just as he was about to touch the rough exterior, he was brought into awareness. His chest heaved with each breath and his eyes widened. He was almost afraid – afraid that it would be nothing – just a figure created by memory and not actually present – not solid. The bamboo hit the rock once again and the sound ran through his little body. He slowly turned his head; then his entire body back towards the house.

And there he stood. Not in the way that Remy remembered him. The man before him stood like the cherry tree behind him – afraid, tired, hopeful…

As they gazed at one another, the memories came rushing back – happy times with smiles and laughter, so many hugs and kisses and comfortable silences, playful times –

The young boy cried out his name and began running across the yard – towards the hand he had been trying to reach for so long. He saw the older man fall upon his knees, his face uncharacteristically emotional. He flung himself forwards and was caught in the arms of his father.

Solace, they thought in unison.

"I'm sorry, Remy," Lex whispered as he held his son tightly. "I'm so sorry."

The boy said nothing, only pressed himself more firmly into his enveloping body… the hold he needed for so long…

He was happy to finally have it.

When they pulled back from one another, Lex looked at him with bleary eyes. "We're going to find Chloe, Remy. She's – she's alive."

The young child froze. Lex tried to smile, but failed miserably. It was only when his son let out a choked laugh and hugged him again that he knew it was right to have told him then.

From a distance, Kenshin and Aoshi watched, silent as they have always been but relieved that the two had finally found each other. The last piece to their broken lives was still miles away, but they knew what the outcome would be.

The sound of bamboo knocking against the rock final like their resolve.

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A/N: Yehey, another update. Took long enough, huh? ToT very sorry. Anyway, FB would be great... Take care... hopefully there will be more soon. :)


	10. 10 The Truth

_**10 The Truth**_

The skies were clear by the beach; the sun's arms dancing across the sand and clear blue waters. Yumi stood in the shade, watching idly as the waves hit the shore. Their tempest was coming; she knew it as sure as she knew Shishio would have his shot at revenge. Oh, yes, it was still to come; all that had past was merely an interlude; her genius attempt to prolong the pain her wonderful – enemy would feel from the pain of losing what he held dear.

_Does he really deserve it, though?_ Oh, how many times had that question filtered into her mind? Once; twice; millions of times in those six months – but she would have made it so that he played no part in it; that is, if she had a choice. The fact of the matter remained, however, that Shishio needed his closure… just as she needed hers.

Yumi's eyes were led back to the mansion by the beach wear two women – one forlorn and the other blank – sat upon the balcony. _Tools_, the woman reminded herself; _just tools that will be freed once the deed was done_.

She looked away and stared at the waters – crystalline azure expanse that foamed as it edged closer and rushed towards the white soft sand. They seemed to get closer – but they weren't. It was still low tide – not even time for the waters to rise. Closing her eyes she breathed in the clean, diamond air. She almost choked, but she hid it well.

She opened her eyes – once so blue and now so purple – and glanced over her shoulder at the approaching figure. The man – with electric white hair, a piercing cobalt look – was trusted by her Shishio. Yukishiro Enishi – a man dedicated to destroying Kenshin just as much as Shishio; his reasons beyond her comprehension.

"It's been over three weeks since you sent those damn letters, Yumi-san," he growled once she was within earshot of him. "Where the hell are those good-for-nothings?"

She regarded him coldly before looking away, squinting her eyes to dim the glare of the early afternoon. "They shall come in their own time. They are a stubborn two; surely you know that?" She paused as he grunted in answer. "We must be patient. We will all have our revenge."

"See," the white-haired man began with a bemused smile upon his face, "that's what I don't get. Why the hell has Luthor been dragged into this shit anyway? He's barely got a connection with –"

"Time will reveal all things," Yumi clipped. "You best wait until It's ready. Now if you will excuse me, I must go see to Shishio."

She barely managed to turn when he grabbed her arm and pulled her towards her. The woman with ebony-coloured hair pursed her lips and glared at Enishi. His intense eyes drilled into hers, searching for answers…

And he smiled in revelation. "It's you…" he breathed with a sneer. "That's why –"

"I'd think twice before I touch my boss's woman if I were you," a frosty, low voice stated.

As if scalded, the azure-eyed man let go of Yumi's arm and bowed stiffly towards the bandaged man. "_Sumimasen, shishou_."

"I'd beat you to a pulp if we weren't expecting guests, you know, Enishi." The younger man clenched his teeth but said nothing to his superior. "Count yourself lucky… this time." Shishio turned to the woman – his eyes piercing. His touch – as he lifted the arm that Enishi gripped – contrasted greatly to his fierce expression. "Are you alright, my dear?"

She nodded stiffly and smiled. Sparing one more furious look at the other man, the two walked off, deep in conversation. Cobalt eyes followed them for a moment imagining what it would be like to tear them apart.

_I got this far waiting patiently. When those idiots come, I'll kill Shishio and that bitch of his and get my revenge on the one that killed my sister all those years ago…_ Enishi clamped down the urge to laugh wildly, but couldn't stop the crazed smile from stretching his lips.

The waves crashed harder upon the beach, carrying with it whatever it could take.

**o0o**

Sunset.

Perhaps the world should have looked beautiful – this picturesque beach with a mild breeze and the sun tinting everything in a deep orange or red hue. Kaoru stared wistfully out from the outcropping of the balcony, however, a frown marring her face. His face was no longer solid in her mind – his laughter muddled by the sound of crashing waves. Closing her eyes she tried once more to recall his voice, so soothing and sweet –

"Kaoru-dono…"

She froze. It was a bare whisper over the sounds of the water, but she heard it. Perhaps it was a figment of her imagination. Surely, he was not really there. She had already lost hope – hope for someone to save her from this beautiful nightmare. It was not possible for him to actually be –

"I'm here, Kaoru-dono."

There was a coil in her stomach – twisting tighter and tighter together. She couldn't open her eyes; she refused to. A callous hand touched her face and she stifled a laugh. Slowly she opened her eyes. Soft amethyst met her blue ones.

"Ken… shin…" she whispered disbelievingly.

The callous hand caressed her cheek and the man before her – with fiery red locks – smiled.

"Aw, well isn't this so sweet!" an acerbic voice chortled. Kenshin's eyes snapped towards the person who spoke and narrowed his gaze upon him.

"Enishi," he replied softly.

"Quick! Someone get a camera and take a picture," the white-haired man crowed with a highly amused grin before it turned truly malicious, "before I hack this son of a bitch into a billion pieces!"

Kaoru cried out as she was pushed away from him, skidding across the wooden planks painfully. Her eyes widened in horror as Enishi pushed Kenshin off the balcony and she screamed out his name only to see him fall out of her line of vision. She knew that he would only be mildly hurt from the tumble. It was his opponent she was truly fearful of. She crawled towards the broken wooden banister and peered over to see the white-haired man getting up painfully, while Kenshin stepped away from the debris that had gone over with them.

Kaoru could only watch as Enishi commenced their fighting once again – with swords in hand.

o0o

As Aoshi downed another dozen men, Lex ran forward, checking the next room down the hallway. He turned the knob silently as he could before pushing it open, constantly keeping his back against the wall right by the door. When Aoshi stepped before it and sensed no immediate danger, he nodded to the Luthor and Lex went in, a gun cocked and aimed ahead of him. The room was dark; the windows shaded save for a sliver of light that managed to enter through the almost covered window. He searched the darkness, narrowing his eyes and scanning the area carefully.

He was about to step forward when Aoshi's hand clamped down upon his shoulder in a strong grip. Lex was about to hiss an angry retort at the raven-haired man when a female's voice permeated the air.

"She's a lucky one," the woman said aloofly.

Both the men turned to the left. They heard a step – saw the bare outline of a body; curvaceous and full. Aoshi couldn't breath. There was something oddly familiar about –

"Who are you?" Lex seethed. "And where is Chloe?"

Someone moved to turn on the light. It was startling at first but their eyes adjusted quickly and they moved to see who it was. Yumi stood by the door, leaning back against the wall as she watched them coolly. Aoshi pursed his lips tightly and balled his fists at his sides. Blue drilled into purple and for an instant, he saw the same blue piercing back.

"Your wife is safe, Luthor," she answered calmly.

"She had better be," he growled.

The raven-haired man felt a flood barrel through him – memories of a young girl berating her two younger siblings for getting into a physical fight with each other; an older girl graduating from Med School; a young woman being sent to spy for a father only to return in tears and –

"Megumi," he breathed.

Yumi stopped and her gaze flew to him, horror evident in her look.


	11. 11 Their Loss

_**11 Their Loss**_

_Alexander Luthor_

He says her name – says it and I hear a high-pitched buzz fill the air. Black hair – black hair purple eyes – no, blue eyes. Her voice is harsher; pointed like a finely sharpened knife. I feel as if I should expect blood to come rushing from my ears. Instead there is nothing – not a drip of red liquid. It used to be so soft

(_when she wasn't crying for mercy – not her; not her; she wasn't at fault!_)

and soothing

(_when she wasn't screaming in pain as you took her brutally; punishment for the innocent; blinded by a veil of darkness; cloaking the eyes from the truth – who she really was and not who you believed her to be_)

like warm wax against the skin. Her now-purple eyes are watching her (_former_) brother now; I can see the blue shining through – seas of liquid sadness.

"You weren't supposed to find out," I hear her murmur through the haze. "You weren't supposed to lose the same sister again… you weren't supposed to find out."

"I could never forget kin – no matter what disguise you hide behind, it is inevitable for me to know it's you – or Kaoru – or Yahiko. You are family." Aoshi's plain words are thick with meaning.

And the blue spills from her eyes tracing a path down her close to ebony skin – grasping desperately at the smoothness before falling and disappearing into her clothes. A melancholic smile graces her lips. Megumi is shining through now and I can't say a word.

"I wanted to punish him one last time, oniisan; wanted to make him pay just a bit more… then I would finally rest in peace. Such shame that I brought to the family… I cannot allow myself the luxury of life any longer."

"All you have done – and are doing is running away, Megumi." He looks away from her; I do the same, bringing my eyes to examine my shaking hands.

I don't know why.

**o0o**

Kaoru fiddled with her hands anxiously. She'd just gotten him back and how he would fight once again. _For her – for him – for their own field of sunflowers_. She watched as he dodged another powerful blow by Enishi – one that had downed three sturdy trees in a row – _a path of destruction is what he leaves_. Something wrapped around her heart – sheltering it; numbing it to the display before her – a web of an arachnid.

The white-haired man cried out in anger as he charged once again – exposed arms rippling in the brilliant red hues of dusk. Kenshin watches with cheerless concentration before evading the downfall of his opponent's sword – golden glowing skin; amethyst eyes tinted slightly amber… a little dangerous. He had placed his sword back in its sheath – waiting for his opponent to wear himself out. He didn't realize the other man was merely showcasing his strength and not his full capabilities.

Minutes of charge, slash and dodge – until finally one charge made Enishi grin fiercely and slashed the blade at a different angle, forcing it along its path with his free hand, increasing the velocity. Kenshin, who had made the mistake of growing accustomed to the other man's attacks, reacted a little slowly. He didn't experience the full sensation of the blade slicing through his body; merely felt a lick of the toned edge upon his arm.

They came to a stop – Enishi breathing heavily, his sword still poised and his back to the red-haired man. Liquid crimson began to show on the sleeve of Kenshin's right arm. Blood trailed down his hand and dripped onto the ground. The white-haired man was not satisfied.

_More blood – more blood – let it rain blood – **his** blood…_

"Che, such a small cut," he scoffed, righting himself and facing his opponent. He gave him a once over and sneered. "You deserve a bigger one, _ne_?"

Kenshin grimaced as he stood straight, his right hand limp at his side. His eyes were sad as he regarded the other man. "I may deserve it, but what good is a dead body when a live one can pay retribution by helping others who are suffering in the world as penance for mistakes of the past?"

"Don't go _Confucius_ on me, you bastard!" the other man raged, his hand cutting through the air – as if physically pushing aside what was said. "You killed my sister in cold blood! I _saw_ it with my own eyes! It was your sword that ended her life!"

"She put herself in the way willingly – she did it to stop the bloodshed – to change my ways; to make me aware of the consequences of my job – my mindless assassinating."

Kenshin could see Enishi's body begin to shake – some unspoken thought overwhelming him that was so evident in the turquoise of his eyes. A sound of rage gurgled out of his throat and he acted out of craze throwing his sword almost desperately around.

"She loved you! She loved you when she could have been loving me! You took my sister away from me! You son of a bitch! You deserve to die!" It was his mantra – his drive to killing the only thing that took away his familial happiness.

After several moments of moving away from the attacks Kenshin unsheathed his sword and the two metals clashed loudly. They pushed violently at each other and they moved back, skidding to a stop a distance away from one another. Enishi instigated their deadly dance once again, sprinting towards the red-headed man, who stood at attention, eyes narrowed, pained, sad… determined. He was meters away when suddenly a vision of black hair and ivory skin interrupted.

Kaoru had closed her eyes as she launched herself in the path that Enishi was going to strike Kenshin. She would willingly give her life for that of the one she loved. She felt the wind from his body – an indication of just how fast the white-haired man was moving. But the contact never came. Instead she became aware of sobs before her. Her eyes opened slowly and she found herself confronted with the bent body of one of her captors – this man who seemed so invincible and willing to destroy everything obstructing his path to revenge. As if sensing her gaze upon him, he looked up at her – eyes wet and desperate – a little less wild.

"I don't understand… why? Why would you put your life in danger for a killer?"

"Because I love him," she answered simply, voice soft and soothing.

"Why? You left me, _neesan_; left me alone," he gurgled, grabbing onto her pant leg in a tight grip.

Kaoru smiled sadly, and he blurred before her very eyes. Two drops of liquid blue fell upon his extended arm. "I'm sorry. I am the one at fault, not him. I'm sorry for your sufferings. I can only hope that you will find it in your heart to forgive me…"

The man on his knees did said nothing but crawled closer to her and embraced her legs, muttering incoherently against her. Kenshin watched – knowing that this was exactly what the man needed – some kind of confrontation with someone who knew exactly what Tomoe, Enishi's sister, felt.

The darkness enveloped their bodies and the wind blew calmly across the beach.

**o0o**

They said nothing for a long time. Just stood there in silence's embrace. Lex was at a loss. Here was the woman who had jointly created a beautiful blessing and she was out to prolong his pain as much as possible. He didn't know what she had in mind, but he knew that as long as she was alive, he would be happy. _I just want my sunflower field back_, he thought.

"Luthor." The bald man's eyes returned to the woman, whose voice was authoritative, yet tired. "You want to see her, do you not?"

He clenched his jaw. "Yes."

"She is residing in the room at the end of the hallway; the door to the right." He began to go when she continued speaking to him. "Step lightly, Luthor. She is asleep… you wouldn't want to disturb her… yet."

Impatient to see her, he gave a quick nod and went down the hallway. He was panting heavily when he finally got to the door. Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes. Something began to build inside him – indefinable and profound. He slowly turned the door knob and opened the door. Inside the room was dark. The windows were open, but the evening sky showed through the sheer curtains. A gentle breeze drifted inside, yet Lex still shivered.

There was an outline of a body in the bed. Lex moved closer. The gun was still in his hand, just in case it was a sham. _Just in case…_

He could hear a faint drumming begin – the closer he got, the louder and faster it beat. _thump – thump thump – thump_ Her hair was a little longer than he remembered – still that dirty-blonde hair. His hand trembled at his side, and a small spasm ran through the limb. He could see the bare evidence of her face

(_that smiled and laughed and smirked and pouted and shot daggered looks_)

He was merely a foot away when her eyes opened suddenly and she rolled out of the other side of the bed. _thumpthumpthumpthump–_ He met her wild green eyes – a foreign look upon her face. She was breathing hard. He looked down at her hand with a confused frown; an expression that transformed into that of utmost disbelief. It was then that he noticed the dagger in her hand.

He was about to speak – say something; anything that would make her remember who he was – when she interrupted. "Who the _hell_ are you and what in the world are you doing in my bedroom!"


	12. 12 Restructuring a Crystal

_**12 Restructuring a Crystal**_

_Carina Sheldon-Lewis_

Who are you? I stand before you, chest heaving, my eyes upon you and a part of me is dying to leap into your arms. One look from you – your pain naked upon your eyes; eyes that I feel I should know so well, yet I cannot place a name – not one. My hand holding the knife shakes visibly, but so does your own; one clench of the finger and I'm done.

Each tense – and strangely agonizing – second passes in a sloth-like pace. Shall you speak? Or shall you be forever hidden in the shadows; a figure distorted in the darkness? You step back then, and I feel my body become tense once again… instinctive reaction.

You move farther away, and I note that you're reaching for the light switch. Something about the action calms me. No killer; no assassin sent to murder me would make his presence so stark. My irises feel shocked for a moment with the sudden brightness and I panic for a moment, jumping back and tensing up again… again? Had my guard actually gone down? Never has this happened before. Who is this man? Who is he?

Vision clears and there he is – his figure more real now. My stomach twists painfully as I stare – a hairless scalp, regal nose, oh, your upper lip has a scar! But it's your eyes – eyes that have me captivated – blue… no grey… no… somewhere in between. Something inside me says that it changes hues every now and then – a way to confuse the rest of the world so they wouldn't know… wouldn't know who he really is.

"I apologise." His voice is a shock upon my senses and while I'm tempted to act as softened wax does, I stiffen all the same.

"Who are you?" I question again.

I watch the muscles on your face contort, but one blink and it seems that it is merely the light playing tricks on me for there it is again – that hard look; that stone look. "I mean you no harm." You evade the question – as if telling me such a simple thing as your name – your name – would bring you so much pain. "I have many enemies…" you trail off for a moment. "And I didn't know what to expect when someone told me to come to this room."

"You are on private property – sir." The last word – why do I choke on the last word? It is as if I want to say something else, but I don't know what it is. There is a barrier in my head – a damn that prevents the river of thoughts from flowing freely.

"I'm quite aware," you reply. Why don't your eyes ever waver from mine? "I came here to meet with an acquaintance and they pointed me in this direction."

"Well, I'm very sorry, but whoever you were supposed to meet cannot be here. These are my quarters. Now if you will – please leave."

There is a moment of stillness – when both our eyes and our breaths are held – and then I tear my gaze away from your

(_melancholic_)

face.

I search the ground as I hear you move – each rustle of your clothes like a paper cut to my senses for it is a sign you are actually intending on

(_abandoning me_)

leaving. Your footsteps – so loud before – become distant echoes before it is drowned out by the sound of the close seashore. And before I know it, I fall to the ground and tears I don't understand run down my cheeks.

**o0o**

He haunts her – a ghost that floats through her mind as she sleeps. She sees his smile, his scowl, his smirk… his heavy-lidded gaze above her as waves of pleasure roll through her. And when she wakes, it is with a layer of sweat upon her skin and tearstains upon her pillow – torn between utter happiness and utmost sadness.

During the day, she roams the streets of the town, hoping to get lost in the bustling people and cries of shopkeepers promoting their goods – absorbing her surroundings like a sponge and smiling every so often when she sees a familiar face. Once she hears her name and she turns toward the direction of the call, only to find that the name is not her own

(_Oh, no, certainly not! They call me Cary, not… Chloe, was it?_)

but someone else's.

A fortnight passes and as time passes, so his image fades until one night goes by with not one dream of him. She wakes the next morning feeling emptier than she had ever felt before.

She decides to walk on the beach, hoping that the sound of waves slipping onto the shore and the feel of white sand beneath her feet would sooth this strange ache within her chest. She would have asked Kaoru to come, but she, along with many of her other companions had decided to go to the city – for reasons that she wasn't told. The household help is still present – to help her with cooking and cleaning, and to keep her company at times.

So there she walks – upon the private beach, staring far ahead of her where people frolick in the edges of the vast ocean. She is so lost in her own world that she neglects to hear the incoming steps of a little boy. Before she knows what is happening, her body is forced to the ground by the little body that runs into the back of her legs.

There is a pair of outcries and Carina lands face flat upon the sand. She rears up again, spewing a fountain of sand from her mouth. "Oh my God!" she shrieks in anger.

Blindly she extracts herself from underneath the small body and stumbles towards the sea to clean her face off. The giggles that she hears permeating from the culprit only heightens her fury. Once her face is free of sand, she whirls around to berate the small child. "You listen here, you –"

And she stops. She stares, not blinking for a moment. The boy giggles on, watching her with mischievous blue eyes and black, now sand-filled hair. Something within her feels like crying and running to the child and clutching him close to her.

But she doesn't really remember him. So familiar, yet so foreign at the same time. "I – you – uh…" she stutters with her words, unable to really formulate a sentence.

His eyes move away from her, widen perceptively and he squeals, scrambling up and running. The dirty-blonde woman looks to see what he is running from only to feel her throat constrict.

_Shirtless…_

_Thin black pants…_

_So much skin…_

_And that face… oh, that face…_

The man slows down as he gets to her, watching her for a moment with a grin upon his face as he breathed heavily before looking on to where the boy was running. "It was my fault he ploughed into you like that. We were kind of playing tag."

She opens her mouth to answer but a squeak comes out instead. Blinking, she clears her throat to speak. "It's you again."

This time, he holds out a friendly hand and introduces himself. "Nice to meet you. You can just call me Alex."

**o0o**

_Carina Sheldon-Lewis_

**(Journal Entry)**

Kaoru and the rest of them have completely left me. I was expecting myself to feel absolutely outraged, neglected and whatever other negative feelings I can cook up, but I don't. Perhaps the reason lies behind the new owner of the house – and thus my new landlord – and his naughty little son.

Why do I feel so at home with people I just met?


	13. 13 Shifted Winds

_**13 Shifted Winds**_

Would the mere slide of fingertips upon her skin change her mind? Would his mere touch bring the memories back to the surface? And just as he touched her hand with his own, he imagined that it could – could bring his Chloe – _their_ Chloe back to them. He could almost see her shudder and a strange light dawn her eyes as she looked at him; a reawakening that occurs in a thousandth of a second. Then tears would slide freely down her cheeks – beautiful crystalline droplets that would cleanse his soul as it fell.

But the vision was merely such… and as their hands bobbed in a unison greeting, her eyes stayed rather vacant and confused. It took all his willpower to keep him from falling apart; keep that smile upon his lips. He looked down at where their bodies were joined; thought how cold it looked – this distant handshake.

A plastic smile was still upon his lips as he looked back up at her. _Know me; say something_, the words sat in the back of his mouth, eager to leave his mouth, but what good would they do? She would not understand; she would not remember. Instead, she gave a nervous smile and stuttered, "It's, erm, nice to meet you… and you can just – ah – call me Cari."

Once again there was that urge to just go down on his knees – beg before her to remember him, her love; her husband. But what good would such an act do? Perhaps it would only scare her away – leave him and his son empty-handed once again.

_Just smile for her – smile as if you haven't a care in the world. Later when she remembers… that will be the time for desperate holds and free tears._

And so he waited. And just smiled.

**o0o**

It's been weeks since her new landlord had come… and every single night as she lies in her bed alone – it feels like agony. Her eyes close and a chaotic bombardment of images flit through her mind – every single one with _him_ in it… or the little boy named Takeshi.

Why – why, why? She doesn't understand why she is thrilled when she sees them and feels empty at the same time. She doesn't understand why she expects more – a kiss, a hug, maybe… she searches her memories constantly for answers – and all she finds is physical pain and nothing. She is sure there is something there… but doesn't know what it can be.

As she sits at the dinner table with both of them close-by, she takes the time to watch them eat and interact with one another. She knows they're aware of her eyes upon the both of their forms, but they don't seem bothered with it whatsoever. So she keeps looking… looking at Alex's hands as they grip the fork and knife and cut every piece of food upon his son's plate into a smaller size.

"Would you like me to do the same to your food?" the older man asks suddenly, snapping her from her trance-like state.

She jumps and a blush forms upon her cheeks. "No, it's okay, Lex. I'm –" then she stops.

The other two freeze as well and stare at her – are their eyes shining hope? The room is spinning around her and she can't understand and yet she understands perfectly. Lex – Lex Lex Lex Lex

The name keeps turning and turning and repeating in her head just as the room seems strange now. She stands up, gripping the edge of the table, eyes wide and focused on – _Lex_ – and then on –_ Remy_.

And she does the only thing she can think of doing.

She runs.

o0o

_Carina Sheldon-Lewis_

The moon – one half clear and bright in the night sky while the other has been plunged into the sea of darkness surrounding it. A faint outline of it can be seen by a scrutinizing eye, though… No matter how much you try to hide what is there, its existence shall always be present – no matter how hard one tries to ignore it…

I feel somewhat similar to it at this moment – I know I am alive – I know I have a present and a future – but my past is oddly absent. With Kaoru and the others, I never felt the need to think of what has past. Everyone had preoccupied me with so many different things – and all the sights seemed new and exciting. Each discovery I made on the island – small things like a shell with lovely purple interior or trying to learn the Japanese spoken amongst my housemates – seemed far more significant and important.

Now, though… now, everything seems plain in comparison to the entire truth of my existence. I am doubtful nowadays… doubtful that the truths I was fed – this name I have, the reasons of my living in Fiji is all a fallacy – something fabricated to assure me and not have me ask questions. My blurting out something that I am _sure _is a pet name of theirs is evidence of this fabricated life of mine.

God, but the harder I try to remember, the hazier everything gets. I feel the tears stinging my eyelids; the world suddenly blurs and the warmth of fresh tears upon my cheeks has me groaning and tilting my head back. I am sick of crying – ever since I had met the man that is all I feel like doing. Either that or lean into him so that our lips just barely touched – a feather-light kiss…

I heave a sigh and shake my head in frustration. These feelings – it is both unfamiliar and so welcoming; as if I was meant to feel that way, but –

"_Ano_…" a little voice said meekly by me.

My heart jumps in both surprise and something a little – deeper than I can fathom. I turn my head to the child of an intruder. Upon his lips is a sheepish smile, but his eyes are deep oceans – secrets are buried there – secrets that he seems to want to reveal but is hesitant about doing.

"Hey, sweetie," I greet him in a whisper.

His pupils dilate slightly in reaction to my endearment, but it is quickly squelched by a front and his chest puffs up as if he's trying to look strong. Putting on what I assume is his most serious face, he marches down the steps towards the sandy expanse of the beach to where I am seated. He doesn't say anything for a while – just stares out into the crashing waves and then up at the sky. I watch him quietly – marvelling his strange grown-up air to him – much like Le – Alex…

I look away from him in consternation – these names; _their _names had been conjured up in thin air – as if they had been imprinted somewhere in my head a long time ago… I close my eyes and breath in and out slowly, hoping it would calm my palpitating heart – fool it to think that everything's okay. But it is rebellious and beats quickly, causing me to breath heavier and faster.

"_Daijoubu desuka_ – Cari-san?" Takeshi's voice is halting and unsure, but worried nonetheless. The name he utters sounds almost foreign to my ears – as if he wasn't supposed to say that, but something else, something that sounded --

I try to smile casually to the boy – a feat that I could not do successfully. "Sort of," I answer in a half-lie, unsure whether to say anything further… after all, he is still a child.

"_Neesan_," he says in a low voice. _Sister_. It tears into my heart and embeds itself there. "You can tell me, _neesan_."

And that breaks me apart. I haul him close to me – feel the strange familiarity of the action – and a release the true torrents that have been hiding there all along… torrents that I still don't comprehend, but it feels good to at least have someone there to hug me back.


	14. Epilogue

_**Epilogue**_

Lightning lit up a section of Metropolis sky – just for a millisecond – before it was plunged into relative darkness. The city itself exuded a brilliance that neither night nor rain could dampen. The lights of the buildings, streets and cars created a sort of glow around the massive place that almost made it look like a blessed haven. And as she stared on, she could not help but think better of it. Really, it had been so long.

A comforting hand was placed on her shoulder and she, distracted from the spectacular view of her old home, looked at one of her companions. In her gaze was the fathomless love – one that could not be diminished.

"Love," he murmured into her ear before placing a chaste kiss

(_that held the world and so much more_)

upon her forehead. "You should come inside or you'll catch a cold."

An almost imperceptible nod – she knew. But she looked out again to stare at the dark landscape. So like her – so like her.

Another kiss was placed upon her form – at the base of her neck; a plea transformed into a touch. She smiled. He worried so much about her – worried about little things now; lacked focusing on the larger issues at hand.

She loved him.

Oh, how she loved him for it – for everything. For always being there despite the difficulties that she was faced with in the past – was still faced with now.

No, she wasn't quite whole yet – not quite whole at all. But the memories – they came like flashes of light in the darkness – like lightning upon the darkened city that was now showing brilliantly with tiny artificial lights.

So like her – so like her.

She turned into him then – turned into the warmth of him and breathed deeply as he reciprocated her embrace – conjured precious memories that she had remembered – memories of a man of stone; a man who transformed into bamboo with the nurturing base of his family's love. Hard winds blew – battering him; wanting to break him – but he merely leaned and persisted.

She loved him.

"Let's go inside, Lex," she murmured against him.

Like one entity they moved – found their child – her brother; the third and equally important part of the family puzzle – waiting for them with ceaseless energy.

The little boy watched them come towards him– extended the hand in his mind to the door that he had been so scared to reach for these past months. Liquid blue in his mind was suspended in the air for a moment – ready to fall; ready to resound inside him…

But he found that the door was ajar – and the people on the other side welcomed him; he could feel what they felt inside; felt their fingers slide onto his palm. And he grasped it – tightly for a moment then in happy looseness.

Liquid blue dissipated – no trace of it to be found. It was as if it never existed.

**FIN**


End file.
